You Said What Now?
by Corvus corone
Summary: What the Blight could have been - a somewhat amusing adventure story in which all six origins became Grey Wardens. Part XVII: In Denerim, plans are made. Anora's rescuers are dispatched, and Tabris wants her new girlfriend to meet her family.
1. In which we meet the heroes

_Okay. So I thought I should put a few introductory notes here before you read this thing. Yes, these are my characters' real in-game names and (a slight exaggeration of) their real in-game personalities. Yes, there will be m/m and m/f and f/f pairings (well, probably. It's not like I plan out this thing or anything) for all your Alistair-lovin' needs later on. But you know, me being so terrible at romance you probably won't even notice any mushy stuff anyway. No, the self-insert will not be appearing again. At least, not for a long time. No, Duncan does not act like that in the game, and I know it. And yes, I do find it practically impossible to be even remotely serious._

**You Said What Now?**

**Part I  
**_We meet our heroes._

**Xox**

Kalamari Tabris was not having a very good day. In theory, this was _supposed_ to be the happiest day of her life, marriage and all. Unfortunately, the whole idea of random human nobles gatecrashing the party, getting herself kidnapped and witnessing Valora's death was a bit of a downer, even for someone as bright and as cheerful as Kalamari.

Not to mention the cake fiasco. (How hard could it be to get a peaked cream icing design, anyway?)

"I'm never going to trust you with the cake arrangements again, Soris," she muttered, awkwardly swinging the unfamiliar borrowed longsword that he had given her. (She wasn't really one for the one-handed weapons, even if this one hadn't been made for human arms.)

He looked at her with some confusion. "What are you talking about?"

She sighed. "Never mind. Let's just find Shianni and get married. Er, not to each other. You know. This killing-guards-business is getting old really fast."

Soris raised his eyebrows, but followed her as she led the way into a corridor filled with angry guards.

"Wait," said Kalamari, stopping dead in her tracks.

"What?" said Soris, frantically trying to defend both himself and Kalamari from the onslaught of furious human guards. "Why have you stopped fighting?"

"Why am I leading the way? Shouldn't you be? Since you know how to get in and out?"

"Kala!" Soris almost howled in desperation. "There's a man trying to behead me and you're worried over who's walking in front?"

"Eh."

After a few more dead soldiers, a dead husband-to-be and more squelches and blood than Kalamari had ever wanted to see in her life, she vomited onto an unconscious guard's shoes and fell over. "This is such a bad day," she moaned. "... Soris ..."

"We need to keep going." He poked her with a foot. "Shianni is still in there!"

"Bleurgh," said Kalamari, wiping her mouth. "Yuk. I don't think I like killing people. How am I meant to get this blood off me?"

Soris sighed deeply. "Let's move."

A few minutes later, they had found Shianni and that irritating Bann. Kalamari was still worrying over what kind of scrubbing action would be needed for such a drenching of blood and whether it would be bad for her skin, and so was too deep in her thoughts to take in what the Bann was saying.

"Er," she said, noticing that everyone was looking at her for an answer. "Please can you die now?"

Xox

SacredBob Cousland – known as Bob to his friends – was similarly not having the best day of his life. His talents were more in how many handmaidens he could get into his bed in a week and how many idiotic jokes he could crack in two minutes rather than fighting. His technique with a sword had much to be desired, although he did think that he was rather good at bashing people with a shield. There wasn't really that much to it. Smash, whack, thump. It was embarrassing, really, but his dog FlowerPower beat him more often than not in their combat training sessions.

He looked down at Iona and wondered if he should lay her body to rest on the bed, because that seemed more respectful than leaving her sprawled across the floor... then he realised that his mother was probably also being attacked by insane Howe guards, and he rushed out to clobber a couple more of those idiots. FlowerPower barked happily and disembowelled another guard.

Xox

Well, this was just jolly, thought Bob a few moments later as he surveyed the grisly scene. He was never, ever going to say the words, "You'll see a sword up close soon, don't worry!" to a little boy again. That joke was just in such bad taste.

"Come on, Bob," said his mother, suddenly looking up with a steely expression. "We need to find your father."

"Yay," said Bob, not really feeling it. He was probably going to need huge amounts of therapy and counselling after all this familial-slaughter stuff.

They did find Bryce Cousland in the end, which would have been wonderful except for the fact that he was bleeding to death on a dirty kitchen floor. Bob's thoughts of "Damn it, of course it would have to happen like this," were interrupted by that Grey Warden from earlier striding into the room.

"How did you get in?" Bob asked him.

"Never mind that," said Duncan. "I'm here to conscript you for the Grey Wardens."

"Er... no. Just no," said Bob. "My parents are dying in front of me and you didn't even help me one little bit in fighting off a bunch of murderous traitors and I'm probably going to be emotionally scarred by this traumatising event _for life_ and now you want me to abandon them to saunter off with you into the sunset to join your disgraced secret society of I don't know whats?"

"Pretty much," said Duncan.

Bob stared in bewilderment.

Xox

Princess Tim Aeducan, unlike Kalamari and Bob, was actually having a rather nice day. She had recently won a Proving in his own honour, humiliated an upstart member of House Dace by killing his eldest son when he had dared to attempt to make her a fool, watched a merchant faint at the sight of her noble presence... and today, she had managed to obtain this precious family heirloom.

She just hoped that Bhelen, that irritating younger brother, hadn't got under her nose and laid some sort of devious plan to trap her. Trian would be no problem, she thought, but that Bhelen was always up to something...

Half an hour later, she was locked in a prison cell and wondering where her spies had gone wrong.

"Gorim, get me out," she ordered. "Escort me back to the palace."

"Er... I can't," said Gorim a little sheepishly. "We're both disgraced prisoners..."

This was the last straw for Tim. "What do you mean, disgraced prisoners? I will not _be_ a disgraced prisoner. I will _never_ be a disgraced prisoner. I am still a princess of House Aeducan and by the Ancestors is that little bastard Bhelen going to pay for this! I'm going to make sure he dies a horrifyingly painful death and be given a casteless's burial if it's the last thing I do!"

"But," said Gorim, "our sentences have been decided. Lord Harrowmount let me in to tell you-"

"Sentences? They'd dare to sentence ME? Why, those little th-"

"I'm to be exiled to the surface, and you're to walk the Deep Roads," explained Gorim before his lady could launch into a full stream of threats and indignation.

She narrowed her eyes. "So Bhelen has persuaded my father against me? Pah. Well, there are exits to the surface through the Deep Roads, are there not?"

"Well, yes. Plus, Duncan and the Grey Wardens are still in the Deep Roads, in tunnels connected to those you are to be left in. If you survive long enough to find the Grey Wardens, you may be able to escape with Duncan."

"Hmm," said Tim, thinking about this. "Well, there are worse ways to win glory than by killing darkspawn, even if I must seek help from these humans. How nice."

The Deep Roads were every bit as long and as seemingly pointless as she had noted them to be on her first visit today. She distractedly stabbed another gunlock and wandered through yet another rocky tunnel. These darkspawn were hardly worth fighting against if she could dispatch them so easily, she thought, and wondered how far away the Grey Wardens were. She was still thinking that thought when she almost ran into Duncan.

"Take me to the surface," she commanded. "Now."

Duncan looked at her, confused. "Er... I think I'm supposed to be the one in charge here. Join the Grey Wardens and I'll let you out?" He beamed in a rather scary manner.

Tim was a little disconcerted.

Xox

"You want me to help you and your illegal girlfriend to blast through the cellar door and destroy your phylactery so you can escape?" said the mage incredulously. "What were you thinking? That I'd say yes?"

"Be quiet!" hissed the elf next to him. "Someone might overhear us!"

"Thank you, Hosomaki," said Jowan. "Look, they're going to make me Tranquil! They've signed the papers and everything! Guys, I really need your help here!"

"I haven't even spent one night in my nice new mage quarters!" said the other human mage, flailing his arms wildly. "I don't want to escape! This is just stupid, pointless and we are all going to made Tranquil if we go through with it!"

"Actually, we can't be made Tranquil if we've passed the Harrowing," said Hosomaki quietly. "So stop waving your arms around and calm down."

"Fine! We'll be _executed_! Hanged! Dead!"

"Please," said Lily. "You three are best friends. Surely you can find someplace in your hearts to help us?"

"I can't let you be made Tranquil," said Hosomaki staunchly. "I will help you!"

"Oh, now you're being an idiot too? It's one thing to brainlessly escape because you're in danger, but pulling your much-too-easily persuaded friends into helping by telling their soft brains that it's the _right thing to do_, Jowan? That's just bad."

"Hey!" said Jowan. "Stop it! You're making Hosomaki cry."

"Am not," said Hosomaki, wiping his eyes.

The other mage looked at him. "Fine. I'm sorry. But this is over the top stupid, here. Aren't you a blood mage too?"

"No!" said Jowan, a little too quickly. "I'd never do anything like that. Ever. Never."

"I believe you," said Hosomaki. The other mage rolled his eyes.

Some time later, the group of four were lost in the basement of the Circle Tower.

"I knew this was a Stupid idea with a capital S," muttered the other human mage.

"Shh!" said Hosomaki. "It's wonderful that you came, but you really don't have to be so pessimistic..."

"Did we really have to destroy all those doors and walls?" said Lily as they stepped through into what looked to Hosomaki's eyes to be a phylactery chamber.

"Great," said the other mage. "Smash the glass and let's go."

Apart from the 'getting lost' part, everything had gone quite smoothly. Hosomaki was almost beginning to plan their victory march when a large group of templars brought a sinking feeling to his stomach.

After the initial shock of being splattered with Jowan's blood had passed, the shock of having been betrayed and lied to started to sink in.

"Hello?" said Duncan, waving a hand in front of his face. "I said, I would like to conscript you into the Grey Wardens. Are you in there?"

"What about me?" said the human mage.

"You don't even have a name," said Duncan, shrugging. "You're only here because I felt that the Amells were unfairly underrepresented in my schemes, so you're really just a token mention. Sorry about that."

"What?"

Greagoir, Irving and the templars all gave Duncan baffled stares. Hosomaki was still busy giving the spot where Jowan had been a baffled stare, and so didn't really register what Duncan had just said.

"Whoops! I don't think I was meant to let that slip. Almost blew my cover!" said Duncan. "Anyway, Hosomaki, you're coming with me. Let's go!"

"Irving, are you sure that that was the Grey Warden Duncan? He seems a little... different," said Greagoir after they had left. The mage Amell still had his "what the hell?" expression on his face.

Irving looked after them and shrugged his shoulders. "I think it best not to ask too many questions."

Xox

Mahariel was not happy.

In fact, this particular Mahariel elf was never happy. Tamlen had long since gotten used to her dangerously unpredictable moods and frequent threats of killing the whole world and then herself, but he had never expected her to go the extra distance and do it. So it was probably a good thing that he was lost in the forest, since Mahariel in her current state was more likely to chop his arms off and beat him with them for funsies rather than save him.

"Piss off, shem," she growled at Duncan.

"That's just rude," said Duncan, sighing. "Look, you're going to turn into a darkspawn in about six months and then that would be bad, so why don't you just do the sensible thing and come with me?"

"Like I would trust you? I'm an elf. You. Are. A. Human. Piss off." She coughed. She was not used to talking so much – her usual conversation was more along the lines of, "They should _die_," and in her more crazed moments, an evil cackle. (That high-pitched scream-like noise was probably what had damaged her throat so.)

Duncan sighed again. "Look, I have just you and the dwarf duster to go, so can you do me a favour and just come? You'll probably die at Ostagar anyway. Believe me, I'm not doing this to help you. I just need a Dalish elf."

"Need? What for?" she said suspiciously.

"It's... a long story. Never mind. Come with me or I'll magically teleport you there."

"Like you could."

And he did.

Xox

"Billybob! This way!" called Leske as they ran through the tunnels of the Carta.

"Let's just hope Beraht and Jarvia aren't at the end of this..." said Billybob, struggling to keep up. It was alright for some, he thought a little bitterly. Leske and his light leather tunic. Stupid rogues.

"Oh, nugshit," said Leske, abruptly coming to a halt. Billybob narrowly avoided crashing into him. "What was that you were saying about Beraht and Jarvia?"

"Real funny, Leske."

Xox

Beraht had only just gurgled his dying gurgle when Duncan, the Grey Warden they had noticed earlier, strode into the room pointing a finger at Billybob.

"You! I need you. Come with me and be a Grey Warden?"

"What's that you said?" said Billybob, still in the let's-kill-people mindset. Leske shook him.

"He wants you to be a Grey Warden! Didn't you hear him?"

"Yes! Exactly!" said Duncan, rather excitedly. "And yes, I know I'm not really supposed to be down here and I should wait for you to come out, and yes, my time travelling may have got things in the wrong order, but I was getting so impatient for my sixth Blight-queller that I simply had to get you as soon as possible."

"You what now?" said Billybob. Time-travelling? Blight-queller?

"Ahem. Never mind all that. Well, the thing is that you're probably going to be executed by the guards waiting outside as soon as you come out, so I'm here to offer you a place with the Grey Wardens instead. Very impressive Proving today, I must say."

Leske clapped him on the back. "There you go! Nice one, salroka."

"I what?"

"That's right! Come with me. We're going to Ostagar!"

"Ostagar? Wait, what?"

Billybob was still just as confused by this sudden fast-forwarding of his life when they finally reached Ostagar as when Duncan had first dropped by Beraht's hideout. Considering the amount of time it took to traverse the whole of Ferelden, that was saying quite a bit. The appearance of five other Duncans at the exact same time, each of them with another confused-looking elf, dwarf of human tagging along behind them, pushed Billybob's mind right into the 'will never _ever_ recover' category of confusion.

"What in the sodding Stone...?"

"Don't worry," said Duncan. "All just as I expected!"

"... Really?"

There was a bright flash of light and a whiff of dirty socks. By the time Billybob's eyes had gotten over the shock, all six Duncans had disappeared. In their place, standing in the middle of the ruined stone road, was a large werewolf that towered over Billybob's dwarfish height.

"Die, werewolf scum!" shouted someone – presumably the elf woman who was now throwing herself at the werewolf with a knife in her hand.

"Oi!" said the werewolf, sounding a little affronted. It reached out a clawed hand and picked up the elf. "How rude. I come in peace."

"You... tricked me!" she said, struggling in the air. "I knew I should never have listened to a shem!"

"Oh, be quiet," said the werewolf. "I picked this form because I thought it would be big and impressive and thus would cow you all into submission... damn it. Oh well. As you may have gathered, all of you, I'm not really Duncan. Sorry about that. However, I _am_ a Fade spirit with immense power over this entire world, so I'd advise you to stop trying to kill me."

It shook the elf a little more. The other five winced a little (except for the dwarf woman, who merely looked contemptuous).

"Ahem! Anyway. So there's a Blight, and I wanted to write a brilliant biography of the brave hero who defeated it – I mean, _will_ defeat it. But then I realised that there were _six_ wonderful heroes who could potentially be the protagonist of this biography, and I just couldn't choose which one... so here you are! All six of you! Isn't this fun?" It paused, obviously expecting someone to say something.

"Yes, _so_ fun," said a human man. The werewolf-spirit evidently chose to ignore the sarcasm dripping off his words.

"Isn't it? So I rewrote a bit of history, knocked Duncan out before he could go wandering off on his let's-find-a-Warden missions and recruited you all myself." It grinned. The sight was more terrifying than reassuring. "Not to mention the fact that I've been watching over you six your entire lives... well, only the past few days, really, or weeks if you include the time travel, but you don't need to worry about that... in fact, I was the one who named all of you at your birth! You are... the Chosen Ones." It laughed jovially (or at least, Billybob assumed that was the intended effect). Four out of five people and a dog backed away. The sixth one glared at it with hatred as she dangled from a claw.

"... why are you telling us your life story?" said Billybob, now very _very_ confused. Oh, how he missed the underground where there were no meddling Fade spirits (or at least none that he had encountered) pretending to be big furry monsters or Grey Wardens.

"Er... because I thought you guys would just get much too befuddled by it all if you realised that there were multiple Duncans running about?"

"I'm befuddled right _now_," said a second elf woman. "So... what?"

"Well now, squid-girl, you are all going off to wake up the real Duncan, tell him that I sent you and ask to do the Joining as soon as possible. All six of you. Don't let the spoilt princess and this insane elf here to get away, okay? All good?"

"Er..." said the woman.

"Great! Well, have fun defeating the Blight. See you!" There was a bright tinkle of bells and a puff of pink smoke, and the werewolf disappeared. The elf woman dropped to the ground with a flump.

"Are you alright?" said another elf, this one in mage robes. The one sprawled on the ground looked at him with disgust and didn't answer.

"So," said the human man, patting the dog beside him. "Shall we go and find the real Duncan?"

"What in the name of Paragon Aeducan was that?" said the dwarf woman, looking absolutely furious. Billybob looked at her in surprise. He recognised that voice...

"Princess Aeducan?" he said. He belatedly remembered that she had executed the last unfortunate non-noble to address her without being spoken to first. Whoops.

"Ah. A casteless. Is this some sort of spirit trick to rub my supposed 'exile' in my face, hmm?"

"You're both Grey Wardens now, and we're all equal here," said the human man, clearly anticipating a fight.

"Actually, we're not," said the second elf woman – the one who had not been picked up like a doll – "we haven't actually joined the order yet. But that's why we should get moving! Oh, and my name's Kalamari. Nice to meet you all!" She beamed at them. Lady Aeducan pursed her perfect lips and haughtily sheathed her dagger, glaring at the others with undisguised disgust.

"Moving on is good, yes?" said the man, ushering Billybob to walk next to him as Kalamari skipped happily ahead . He left Lady Aeducan well alone. The other two soon followed.

Xox

"What?" said the real Duncan incredulously as SacredBob explained to him their situation. "You say a talking werewolf brought you all here and wants you all to become Grey Wardens?"

"That's what he, uh, it, said," said Kalamari, trying to be helpful. "Apparently we have to do a joining or something? Is that right?"

"Yes, yes, the Joining ritual," said Duncan, rubbing his head. "A talking werewolf? I may be going mad, but that does sound familiar – almost like a dream I just had. But all of you to be recruited at once? I am not sure that that is wise."

"Er..." said SacredBob. "My whole family was slaughtered by that bastard Howe, and the fake Duncan conscripted me and stopped me from defending my dying parents. I'd kinda like to put that guilt to some use, you know."

"Do you realise that there is no turning back in becoming a Grey Warden? Even the Joining ritual is dangerous."

"If you don't make me a Grey Warden, I'll probably be hanged," said Kalamari. "And I really don't want that."

"Same here," said Hosomaki. "All for defending the cause of a false friend..."

"Er... I want to kill darkspawn?" said Billybob, because everyone else was looking at him and it appeared to be his turn to speak.

The attention was turned to the two girls remaining. The Aeducan exile spoke first.

"I do _not_ want to be a Grey Warden. Let me go my own way," she said, managing to look condescendingly upon the rest of the group even though she was the shortest there.

"Hey!" said Kalamari. "The spirit said that all six of us have to take this Joining! You're not allowed to just leave!"

"I don't think angering a spirit that can rewrite history and change time is really such a clever idea," said Bob. "You should probably stay..."

"Exactly!" said Kalamari. "It told us especially not to let any of you get away. We all need to be Grey Wardens."

"We should do as it asked," said Hosomaki. "Isn't that the wisest thing to do?"

"I'll do no-one's bidding, even if they happen to be a spirit from the Fade! It dared to trick me! It deceived all of us!" replied the Aeducan woman. "I've not quite stooped to that level."

"You've lost your title and your rank, from what I hear," said SacredBob fairly. "You're pretty darn up yourself for a disgraced surface dwarf, aren't you? The other Duncan was telling me all about it. You're no better than the rest of us."

Kalamari felt that that was a bit uncalled for, not to mention likely to cause an explosion, so she stood back and waited for the dwarf's reaction. She was a little surprised when the dwarf seemed to calm down.

"Fine. I admit that I am casteless – for now. I suppose I shall have to keep my oath to that false Warden that I shall stay."

"Great!" said Kalamari, patting her on the shoulder. It was greeted with a look of shocked horror – _no-one_ dared to touch the Princess – and a quick slap.

"If I had my Gorim with me still, you would all be dead from poison by now," she muttered.

"And what about you?" said Duncan to the other elf. She still had not spoken a word to any of the others in the group, and she made no response now except to give Duncan a rather rude hand gesture.

"We'll... persuade her," said SacredBob, shrugging. "So what do we have to do?"

**to be continued...**


	2. In which the heroes become Grey Wardens

**Part II  
**_The heroes explore the Wilds, meet Morrigan, __undertake the Joining,__ and ascend the Tower of Ishal. Crazy elf is crazy, and Hosomaki seems to be getting strange messages from the Fade..._**  
**

**Xox  
**

"Aw, look at the cute little puppy!" said Kalamari as they passed the Mabari pens for the third time.

"You know, that's a Mabari wardog, not a cute little puppy," said SacredBob. "Like FlowerPower here. Anyway, I'm sure we've seen this tree before..."

"You read the map then!" said Billybob in a huff, thrusting it into the other Bob's hands.

Kalamari looked over his shoulder. "We haven't been over there yet," she said, poking it.

"Which way's there?" said Billybob.

SacredBob sighed. "Let's go, team."

"-deliver a message from the revered mother, ser mage. She desires your pres-," said a man at the top of the steps, before Kalamari interrupted.

"Ooh! Are you Alistair?" she said, bouncing up and down excitedly.

"Excuse me?" said the mage he was talking to.

The hypothetical Alistair looked from Kalamari to the mage, slightly confused, before saying, "Er... yes. Alistair. Could you excuse me for a second?"

"Who, me?" said Kalamari before Bob and Billybob dragged her off. The Aeducan princess and the other elf girl were already waiting nearby – they probably hadn't got lost, thought the Bobs sourly – and Hosomaki was standing a little apart looking a bit awkward.

"Maybe we should stick together," said SacredBob to the reunited group. "If we all need to do the same thing, I don't want to lose any of you..."

"_Lose_ me?" said the Aeducan princess incredulously. "I don't think I need to be owned by anyone, thank you very much."

SacredBob gave her a withering look. "_I_ think you need to get that stick up your arse out of there before it causes internal bleeding."

"Guys, please don't argue!" said Kalamari, stepping forwards. "We can sort this all out later. Let's just make sure we're Grey Wardens first, shall we?"

"A very good idea," said Hosomaki. "Is Alistair done yet?"

"I was even going to name one of my children after you," Alistair was saying to the mage. "The grumpy one."

"That's a terrible joke," muttered SacredBob. "I could do better than that in my sleep."

The mage was saying some sort of angry retort, most probably, but SacredBob missed it thanks to his critique of Alistair's 'witty' comment.

"So," said Alistair. "You... wanted me?"

"Yes!" said Kalamari. "We all want to take the Joining. Duncan said to find you."

Alistair looked a little taken aback. "All of you? I thought he said he was only going to find _one_ new recruit!"

"Change of plans," said SacredBob.

"Ah," said Alistair. "Well. I'll be accompanying you for now, then, since I'm the newest Grey Warden. And... we should go back to Duncan. All of you."

"Why do we need to be accompanied?" inquired the dwarf princess. "This seems a little... unnecessary."

Alistair shrugged. "Well, I suppose there do seem to be a lot of you... um, let's just go and see what Duncan wants."

A few minutes later, the seven of them were standing in the Korcari Wilds thanks to Duncan's orders and once again, Billybob was hopelessly lost.

"What," said the Aeducan princess disdainfully, "is the point of giving the map to the only person unable to read it?"

"Shut up, I'm trying," said Billybob, squinting.

"Shall I help?" said Kalamari. She took the map and turned it upside-down. "Aha! This way, guys!"

They had only walked a few yards before Hosomaki abruptly stopped. SacredBob bumped into him.

"What the-"

"We need to help him!" said Hosomaki, kneeling down beside the wounded man gasping for help. "Do we have any poultices?"

"I don't know," said Kalamari, running up to him and frantically searching through her backpack. "Anyone? Help here?"

"I have a bandage in my pack here," SacredBob said, brandishing a large roll of cloth proudly. "Let me just-"

Unfortunately enough, he didn't have time to bandage the soldier's bleeding injuries before the seemingly mute elf woman with no known name suddenly materialised from nowhere and slit the man's throat. Hosomaki and Kalamari stared at the spurting fountain of blood, stunned.

"Does the word "insane" mean anything to you?" said Alistair, incredulous. She made no reply, instead wiping her dagger on the grass with a look of disgust.

"What in the Maker...? You can't just kill people like that!" cried Kalamari, getting up and pointing an accusing finger at the other elf. She ignored her.

"Kalamari is right. We need to fight the darkspawn, not each other," said Hosomaki, still looking rather traumatised. "This is beyond ridiculous. What possible reason could you have for doing something like that?"

No reply.

"Can we just set a few ground rules here?" said SacredBob, looking at the whole group. "No killing of people on our own side, because that's just idiotic. I mean, really. We just need to get these papers and that darkspawn blood, and then we're going. I don't know what your problem is, Little Miss Insane Murderer, but if there's any more nonsense from you..."

"Besides, execution only happens on my word," said the dwarf ex-princess coldly to the elf woman. "Perhaps we should set up some discipline here?"

"Er... no execution here. Was it just me, or did I just say something along the lines of 'no killing people on our side'?" said SacredBob.

"She's hardly on our side!" said Kalamari heatedly. "Are you sure we can trust her? She won't even tell us her name!"

"Sure? We're only letting her come along because that werewolf told us to – of course we're not damn sure!" said Billybob, who didn't really have an opinion on the dead soldier, but did have an opinion on Crazy Elf Lady. "I don't really thi-"

"Look, there's no time for this," said Alistair, interrupting all of them. "We need you all to take the Joining as soon as possible... I think. Shall we get a move on?"

The group reluctantly followed him, Kalamari still glaring angrily at the other elf woman.

xox

"You know," said Hosomaki, flicking through a blood-spattered journal he had picked up from a corpse a few minutes back, "it says here that there might be a secret stash hidden in these woods. Why don't we look for it?"

"Isn't this an urgent and quick mission?" said Billybob.

"Well, we can always split up," said SacredBob. "We handled that last group of darkspawn pretty easily, if I do say so myself."

He looked at Alistair for back-up, who said, "Yes, well, Grey Wardens don't normally go out in groups of more than four anyway. But... well, try not to die a horrible and painful death."

"Wise words!" said SacredBob. "Who's going with whom?"

"If anyone's interested in some exploration of this environment, they're very welcome to come with me," said Hosomaki.

"Ooh, sounds fun!" said Kalamari, clapping her hands together. "Anyone else?"

"I think finding these important documents would be far more useful," said the ex-Lady Aeducan, sniffing haughtily. "You are perfectly welcome to waste your own time."

"Suit yourself," said SacredBob. "How about me, the non-princess and Billybob go with Alistair, and you two take the Crazy Elf Lady and have fun getting lost in the woods?"

The group murmured an agreement – with the exception of the Crazy Elf Lady, of course. Kalamari and Hosomaki looked at each other and shrugged.

Xox

"So the next Chasind treasure hunt clue is... this way, I believe," said Hosomaki, noting down a few objects of interest on his map.

"Are you... sure?" said Kalamari. Her feet were already beginning to hurt. By the Maker, she hated walking.

"That's what my map says," said Hosomaki. "I trust the map."

"But... you just wrote on your map. So the map doesn't say anything. How does that work?"

"I don't really know," Hosomaki said, "but I'm sure that this is right. There is definitely a big white cross marking a point of interest right here. And if you stare at it long enough, it seems to communicate directly to my mind something about 'Chasind Trail Signs'. Do you understand?"

"Nope," said Kalamari, shaking her head. "But you're a mage. I expect it's some sort of Fade message that only you can hear. Oh well, let's just keep moving. Where's Cel?"

They had nicknamed their silent companion Cel, as a shorthand form of Crazy Elf Lady. Kalamari was not quite sure if this would lead to them getting a knife between the ribs later, but she hadn't tried to kill them yet... and she _was_ rather useful in a fight, so there it was. There was also the other thing where she often appeared to just vanish into empty air, which made tracking her movements a little difficult. Kalamari just hoped she wasn't already holding a knife to her throat. Invisibly.

Xox

"You know," said SacredBob to the rest of his group. "I've just realised something. Those three that just went off treasure-hunting were all elves. Coincidence?"

"Do we really have to care?" said the not-princess. She was already far ahead and waiting for the other three impatiently. "We are wasting time!"

"Oh, lighten up, Miss I'm-" SacredBob was interrupted by the appearance of a girl wearing nothing but a scarf for a top. And what appeared to be a dead animal for a skirt.

"Excuse me?" said the non-princess, frowning at SacredBob and missing the point of the sudden break in what was sure to be a very witty insult.

"Look! A stripper!" said SacredBob, catching up quickly with the not-princess. She turned around. Alistair and Billybob both did a double take at the exact same time as each other as they tried to keep up with SacredBob.

"And who are you supposed to be, hmm?" the not-princess said.

"You are the intruder, here. I believe the first question is rightfully mine," said the supposed stripper. "Well, I have watched your-"

"At least _I _do not dress like a casteless slut," said the not-princess, looking snootily down at the woman's (lack of) clothes, which was quite a feat since not only was she a human, she was also standing on a raised platform. That not-princess really did have some talent, thought Billybob. No wonder why everyone thought she was going to be Queen.

"Oh? Is it already time to trade insults? I would gladly play your game, but I fear there are more important things at stake than a little dwarf's rudeness. My question is this: why do you disturb these ashes so? What is it you seek?"

"Don't answer her," said Alistair, drawing his sword. "She looks Chasind, and that means others may be nearby. I don't want to risk an ambush."

"... I wasn't going to," muttered Billybob.

"What fun," said SacredBob. "Er, Lady Aeducan, please don't throw that flask of acid at the stripper? It might be bad."

"You fear barbarians will swoop down upon you?" said the 'stripper', looking disdainfully at the not-princess who had been hoping to surprise her with the flask in her hand.

"Yes. Swooping... is bad," said Alistair.

"Stop being an idiot," said the not-princess (which summed up what everyone else was thinking but hadn't dared to say).

"Oh,_ I'm_ sorry," said Alistair, a little stung.

The perhaps-Chasind woman gave them all a dirty look. "I suppose my intended show of common courtesy is to be wasted upon you fools, then. A pity. I am Morrigan, if you desired to know, and I wondered perhaps if you sought something in the chest – something that is here no longer."

"What are you implying?" said the not-princess frostily. "More idle trickery?"

"More? I have not tricked you yet, surely?"

"Here no longer?" said Alistair. "You stole them, didn't you? You're... some kind of... sneaky... witch-thief!"

"Nice one, Alistair," said SacredBob. "Your eloquence astounds me."

Xox

"Hi guys!" said Kalamari brightly, running towards the other group with Hosomaki hard on her heels. "Did you get it? Those papers Duncan wanted?"

"Turns out some witch who doesn't believe in wearing clothes stole them," said Billybob. "Her mum gave them back, though."

"A witch? There are witches living here?" said Hosomaki worriedly.

"Looks like it," Billybob said.

"What'd you two do then? And where's the Crazy Elf Lady?" said SacredBob.

"Cel likes being invisible," said Kalamari, as if talking about some kind of pet. "But she hasn't tried to kill us yet, so that's good, isn't it?"

"... very," said SacredBob. "Alistair, do we have everything?"

"Six vials of blood and the scrolls. Got it."

"Anyway, so Hosomaki made us run around the what must have been the whole forest before we found this nice stash – look, you can have this heavy helmet if you want – and then we accidentally raised a demon, so we killed that, and-"

Kalamari would probably have continued rambling to SacredBob for several minutes in this vein had Hosomaki not interjected with, "Well, I didn't know that Gazarath would be so evil!"

"It was good practise, anyway," said Kalamari, patting his shoulder. "Cel seems to really enjoy killing things..."

"You don't say," said SacredBob.

Xox

The Joining ritual was definitely not what any of them had expected.

"Yuk," said Kalamari, looking down into the swirling dark blood. "How much do I have to drink, anyway? A sip? A mouthful? I need to leave some for everyone else..."

Alistair looked at Duncan, who sighed wearily and said, "Just take a mouthful and be done with it."

The other five hopeful Wardens-to-be looked down at her unconscious body, slumped on the floor.

"This really doesn't look very healthy," said SacredBob. "What did you say the mortality rate was?"

"Just... do it," said Duncan. "It will be over all the faster."

The Aeducan not-princess didn't hesitate in taking her poisonous mouthful, and nor did 'Cel'. Hosomaki seemed to steel himself before bringing the goblet to his mouth, and Billybob made a facial expression that perhaps read 'Why am I doing this, again?'.

"They all live," said Duncan, furrowing his brow. "How very... unusual."

"Well, it does seem like a very unusual circumstance," said Alistair. "The Bobs were telling me all about fake Duncans and talking werewolves..."

Xox

"What? The battle is now?" said SacredBob, incredulous. "But we've only just woken up! Kalamari here just passed out twice in the last ten minutes, I have a raging headache that probably wants to eat me whole and by the way just so you know, I woke up to find this Crazy Elf Lady about to slit my throat, and Hosomaki is still knocked out on the floor! What do you mean, the battle is _now_?"

"Stop shouting so loudly," said the not-princess. "Go and wake up Hosomaki, then."

"What are we going to do with Cel?" said Kalamari, trying to sit up. She looked horribly pale and close to vomiting. "Killing people is bad..." She made a strange sort of gurgle and collapsed.

"Tell me something I don't know!" said SacredBob. "Eurgh. My head. Where's Billybob?"

"Here," said Billybob. "Should we get going?"

"We just never catch a break, do we?" muttered SacredBob. "Let's go meet the King."

Xox

The not-princess Aeducan was alternately sulking and messily butchering darkspawn to work off her anger while Kalamari Tabris was making faces of revulsion and trying to avoid the inevitable bloody splatter.

"Do you have to make it so messy?" she said after the immediate danger had been slaughtered. "It's so hard to wash off afterwards!"

The dwarf spared her a scornful glance. "_No-one_ is going to tell me what to do! Especially," she plunged a dagger violently into a twitching hurlock's throat, "when it means stealing my glory."

"I don't know if you remember, but that's exactly what just happened," said SacredBob, pulling Kalamari out of the spray's trajectory. "Less of the moaning and more of the moving, okay?"

"Come on," said Billybob. "Cel's going crazy up there." FlowerPower barked in agreement.

"Hello?" said Alistair when no-one responded. "Tower of Ishal, anyone?" The not-princess and Bob seemed to be having a furious staring contest. Kalamari and Billybob dragged SacredBob away, and the not-princess "pah"-ed at his back and followed.

"Maker's bumpigeons," said Kalamari. "Are there supposed to be that many darkspawn?"

"You... you're Grey Wardens, aren't you? The tower... it's been taken!" wheezed a soldier, running up to them.

"Well, that answers your question," said Bob to Kalamari. He turned back to the soldier. "What do you mean, _taken_!"

"The darkspawn came up through the lower chambers! They're everywhere! Most of our men are dead!"

"I had a strange feeling that something like this would happen," said Hosomaki. "It would have been much too easy, otherwise."

"Too easy? How is that a bad thing?" said Bob. He turned to the guard. "Um. Maybe you should stay out here and kill any more darkspawn trying to get in. Oh, and if you get attacked by a crazy elf lady, just knock her out and send her over to us. Somehow. There's eight of us here, including FlowerPower. Do you think that's enough to get to the top?"

"Let's hope so," said Alistair.

"It seems like twice as many as we really should have," said Hosomaki, looking confused. "I don't know why these things come to me, but... it just seems like there should only be four of us here."

"I'm going to take that as a good sign. Let's move, people!" said SacredBob, running up the ramp to the tower door.

Xox

Lady Aeducan – she refused to think of herself as an exile – hated having to work with these low-born imbeciles as much as the next dwarven noble, but even she could see the importance of (their lack of) teamwork. It seemed that their strategy was not so much based on, well, a _strategy_, but more on the 'run madly into the room and hit the first thing that comes into view' idea.

This was especially bad when considering that Cel's 'first thing' often happened to be SacredBob.

"She has a vendetta against me!" said Bob angrily, thumping the elf hard on the head with his shield. She groaned and fell onto the blood-covered floor.

"So I see," said the not-princess, neatly stepping over her. "In any case, we need a strategy. We need teamwork, a chain of command and proper battle tactics. I don't expect you to get very far, otherwise; look how many of you were injured in this last skirmish, and I haven't even taken this elf here into account yet."

"For one thing, it's 'us' not 'you', and I'm thoroughly convinced that this elf is unsafe to bring with us," said Alistair, joining them. "I don't even know your name - but since you're a Grey Warden now, you're part of this team that you're talking about."

She scowled. "Of course."

"Chain of command?" said Billybob. He was no genius, but he could see that discussing a theoretical hierarchy within their group with the not-princess Aeducan present would only lead to trouble. "Do we really have to talk about it right now?"

"Because you know, we do have _all_ the time in the world before that not-important-at-all signal up there needs to be lit," said Bob.

"Actually, we do," said Hosomaki. Then he stopped. "I honestly don't know why I just said that. I just think... it's not that urgent."

"But it is!" said Alistair, surprised. "Teyrn Loghain needs us for his flanking attack! How else is he meant to know the exact time to bring in his forces?"

"I don't know," Hosomaki said. "Maybe it doesn't have to be that... exact. Any time will do."

"I am a Commander of the Deep Roads," said the not-princess, ignoring Hosomaki. "From what I can see of your skills, I have the most experience in battle. It will be best for all of us if you do exactly as _I_ tell you."

"What do you mean, '_am'_? You're an _exile_, aren't you?" said SacredBob. That not-princess really didn't seem to understand her position.

Alistair sighed. "I suppose it can't be worse than what we're doing already. Can it?"

"... I don't like her," said Hosomaki.

"That isn't important. Not dying is important, and you need to obey my orders for _that_," said the not-princess, sparing him a scornful glance.

"Let's just go. The sooner the better. We'll see what your commanding's like for now, and we can talk about all this fancy stuff later," said SacredBob, giving Hosomaki a funny look. "Kalamari?"

"Urk," said Kalamari. "My skull... feels... cracked. Ow."

"There must be some supplies in those crates," said Hosomaki. "They look as if they might have something in them."

Xox

"What are the chances?" said SacredBob. "Of course the vital part of this whole tower would be guarded by a huge ugly monster."

"I suppose it will be harder to kill than all the other darkspawn here added together," said Hosomaki sadly. "And it's an ogre. That's... what it's called."

"I thought you said that you'd never seen darkspawn before?" said Alistair, looking a bit puzzled.

"It must have been in a book I read in the Circle Tower," Hosomaki replied. "I... think."

"I don't suppose you have a nice tactical plan to defeat this, uh, ogre?" said Kalamari to the not-princess. "Because it would be really useful."

"Useful, like around... now," said SacredBob as the ogre picked up Alistair and hoisted him into the air. "Alistair?"

"Get Kalamari and SacredBob in front of that thing and get him out of there," ordered the not-princess. "Mage, stand well back and do whatever you mages do. Crazy lady and the casteless dwarf there go round the back once Bob's distracted that thing." 'Cel', for the first time since the group had formed, actually obeyed the direct order. Kalamari stared at her in shock.

"You have to stop calling me 'the casteless dwarf'," grumbled Billybob as he stumbled towards the monster's rather repulsive behind. "Exile."

"Not now, morons!" said SacredBob. "Oof!" A giant clawed hand punched into his stomach. "Oh Maker... that doesn't look good." The floor underneath their feet rumbled as the ogre jumped, curled into a rolling ball and rammed directly into Bob.

"Health poultice!" shouted Kalamari, trying desperately to see how Bob was doing from the other side of the ogre. Cel snickered quietly.

"Alistair, go and distract it," said the not-princess, stabbing the ogre's feet a few times before jumping away. As much as the others hated to admit it, the firmness and complete lack of panic in her voice and fighting was rather admirable.

"Looks like Bob's out of the fighting," said Billybob, accidentally tripping over the man's outstretched arm.

"Fuckbunnies," said Kalamari, raising her battleaxe above her head for a hit. "Will you not just _die_? Please?"

It took a while, and a few more interesting profanities from Kalamari, but her request was eventually granted. The group witnessed the rather disturbing sight of Cel stabbing the ogre's face with a rusty dagger, her fiendishly delighted face lit up by a bolt of Hosomaki's lightning, while crowing a sort of twisted cackle that would have given young children nightmares. In fact, it probably would have given the dying ogre nightmares.

"She's actually insane," muttered Alistair. The rest of the group – excluding the unconscious SacredBob – nodded, their eyes fixed in horror upon the elf carving an obscene scrawl upon the ogre's stomach.

"What did I miss?" said SacredBob, getting up and staggering towards them. "Oh. Looks lovely. Do you mind if I go light the beacon?"

"I want to close my eyes but I can't!" said Hosomaki, a spell frozen half-formed in his hand.

"I'll... take that as a yes."

**to be continued...**

_A/N: fyi,_  
_SacredBob Cousland is a sword/shield warrior_  
_Kalamari Tabris is a two-handed weapon wielding warrior who doesn't like swords_  
_Tim Aeducan is a dual-wielding rogue_  
_Billybob Brosca is a dual-wielding warrior_  
_Mohita Mahariel is a (stealthy) dual-wielding rogue_  
_and Hosomaki is a mage._

_I promise that the concentration of PCs will thin out soon, and we'll see a bit more of the companion characters._


	3. In which the heroes reach Lothering

**Part III  
**_Lothering is reached, and leadership is discussed. Morrigan, Sten and Leliana come along too. The heroes split up to go their separate treaty-enforcing ways._

**Xox  
**

"Oh dear Maker, it's you again," said SacredBob when his exhausted mind registered Morrigan standing next to his bed. "What'd I do now?"

"I do not remember inviting such rudeness," she said, scowling. "I suppose you do not remember what happened in the tower?"

"The... tower? Oh. The tower."

"I am glad your mind has so recovered."

"Why, thank you. So... what happened?"

"The usual. Darkspawn overwhelmed you, Mother saved you, I received my due gratitude for the time spent healing all seven of you. Such is life, is it not?"

"Oh. Well, thank you," said Bob, feeling a bit awkward. "What, your mother saved us? How?"

"I am told that she turned into a giant bird and plucked you from the tower in her talons, and that a spirit in the form of a great werewolf helped her in this task."

"A... spirit? Werewolf? She summoned it?"

"That is what she said, though it was not summoned. Perhaps you are watched by those in that realm? Whether you believe her, however, is another story."

"Sounds just lovely to me," said Bob. "Wait... what? Darkspawn overwhelmed us? What happened to the King and all that?"

"The man who was to respond to your signal quit the field. The darkspawn won your battle."

"Loghain? But... what? Are you sure I'm awake?"

"I do not know who this Loghain even is. Perhaps ask Mother of it."

"And here I thought nobility were meant to be noble. Damn that Howe bastard. Er, where's the toilet? How long was I out for? Where's everyone else? Did Cel try to kill me again?"

"I did not even think it possible, but you ask even more questions than that elf woman! I assure you, 'twill be the best for both of us if you go and talk to Mother as soon as possible. She has asked to see you as soon as you awoke."

"Which is to say, now," said Bob, swinging his legs out of the bed and attempting to stand up. "Ow."

Xox

"Bob!" squealed Kalamari as soon as he opened the door. "You're alive!"

"Unless this is the afterlife," SacredBob said. "I'm almost beginning to believe that it is."

"Cel could probably prove that it's not, if you asked her to..." said Billybob, who was sitting on a tree stump nearby. "Is that everyone?"

Hosomaki, along with everyone else, looked around and counted. Seven people and a dog. That was the last thing he clearly remembered doing or thinking before he found himself on the road to Lothering with Kalamari waving a hand in his face.

"I think he's in shock," she announced.

"... sorry?" said Hosomaki, blinking and trying to take in his surroundings. "Where am I...? Grey Wardens...?"

"We're on the Imperial Highway," said Kalamari. "We're going to Lothering!"

"It's the first stop on the way to getting these treaties done," said Billybob. "Keep moving."

"I..." Hosomaki's wobbly train of thought was derailed by him tripping over FlowerPower.

"I think all that stuff back in the tower disturbed him more than we thought," said Kalamari to the others, hauling him up.

"'Tis a great pity," said Morrigan with no small amount of sarcasm. Hosomaki looked at her in surprise. When had this breast-exposing woman joined them?

"It is, actually!" said Kalamari fiercely. "Hosomaki, do you know your name? What do you last remember? How many fingers am I holding up?"

"He _is_ a mage," said the not-princess in front of them. "He's been more useful than I expected."

"Do we need a rest?" said SacredBob at the head of the group, turning around and stopping. "What's wrong with Hosomaki?"

"Some kind of mental trauma, I believe," said the not-princess beside him. "We'll take a break and rest for now."

"That's... kind of what I said," said SacredBob.

"We are almost there, you know," said Alistair. Hosomaki stared blankly at him. "But... maybe a rest would be good."

Xox

"Do you remember... the ogre?" said Kalamari, sitting Hosomaki down on the ground.

"Um..."

"Okay. How about... the Joining?"

"..."

"This doesn't look good," said Alistair. "Have you ever treated anyone for traumatic amnesia?"

"Nope," said Kalamari, leaning back and examining Hosomaki from a distance. "Have you?"

"I didn't even know it existed," said Alistair, not very helpfully.

"Well, seeing as we're all sitting down nicely and everything, why don't we go through the proper introductions? That might help things with Hosomaki's memory, and I still don't even know your names," SacredBob said, the last phrase directed at the not-princess and Cel.

"Must we really go through this?" said Morrigan. "We waste enough time as it is."

"Er... yes, we must," said SacredBob. "Plus, it'll help with the ex-Aeducan's whole chain of command thing. We can have a nice and civilised discussion on group leadership. Good?"

"Still a good waste of time, you mean? In that case, I heartily agree," said Morrigan.

"Let him speak," said Tim. "This may prove useful."

"Great! I'll start, then. Hello everyone, my name is SacredBob Cousland and I'm an alcoho- oh wait, wrong introduction. You can call me Bob for short. And this is my dog, FlowerPower."

"You're a Cousland?" said Alistair at the same time as Billybob and Kalamari said, "FlowerPower?"

"Yep, and I _was_ planning to go to Denerim to brutally kill my family's murderer, but then this whole Blight thing happened..."

"Your family's _murderer_?" said Alistair blankly. "Did I hear that right?"

"Long story," said Bob. "Maybe some other time. Next!"

"Oh, me?" said Kalamari, looking up. "Um, hi! I'm Kalamari Tabris and I live in the Denerim Alienage only I can't really go back because these guards wanted to hang me. It was all a misunderstanding, don't worry! Basically, this Bann raped my friend as well as kidnapping me for later and also murdering one of my other friends, so I killed him." She nodded sadly. "And... that's about it."

"I... see. You all have such... happy backgrounds," said Alistair, still rather blankly.

"As happy as anyone else's in Thedas, I'm sure," said Morrigan.

"Moving on?" said SacredBob, looking at the not-princess. She gave him a glare in reply.

"I am Princess Tim of House Aeducan, as well as a Comman-"

"You mean, you _used_ to be an Aeducan princess," muttered Billybob.

"Come on, no arguing," said SacredBob. "Although he does have a point. The undeserved snobbish attitude really isn't winning you any points in your favour..."

"Just because I happen to be an exile at this moment doesn't mean that I'll never return," said Tim loftily. "In fact, my back-up plan no.24B should have sprung into action as soon as my arrest was announced, and I can assure you that as soon as my rightful rank is recognised again, any and all disrespect, be it in the past or present, will be firmly dealt with."

"If you say so," said SacredBob. "So why exactly did you get the exile, anyway?"

"Wait," said Kalamari slowly. "Did you say your name was Tim? Isn't that a bo-"

"It's a dwarven name," snapped Tim. "And the reasons for my current state of exile are of no consequence to you. Do not affront me with such insolence."

"We live for gossip, it seems," said Billybob. "I bet it's plastered all over Orzammar, anyway."

"Excuse me?" said Tim.

"Nothing," said Billybob. "Is it my turn?"

"Go ahead," said SacredBob, holding up his hands.

"Great. I'm Billybob and you can also call me Bob for short if you really wanted to, and I'm a duster from Orzammar. And because me and my friend bravely dealt with one of the crime lords of Dust Town I was about to be executed. Yeah, Orzammar is fair that way."

"And I suppose your illegal impersonation of a Warrior Caste – not to mention even daring to enter the Proving Grounds in the first place – was of no consequence?" said Tim.

Billybob shrugged. "Guess not."

"No bickering," said Bob, shushing them. "Next?"

"Hello," said Alistair, feeling very awkward with the whole circle's eyes on him. "I'm Alistair and I'm a Grey Warden. You... probably already knew that. Can we move on, now?"

"Well, at least tell us a bit more about yourself," said Kalamari. "Do you like ducks, for example? How about, er, dressing gowns?"

"Ducks?" said Alistair, feeling a little disorientated.

"Morrigan?" said SacredBob.

"What do you wish to know of me?" said Morrigan, a little testily. "You know that my name is Morrigan, and that my mother has forced me into your service, and also that I do not see the point of this happy little bonding session. Is that not enough?"

"Well, Hosomaki probably didn't know that," said Bob fairly. "Feeling any better?"

"Um," said Hosomaki, not really feeling any better. He honestly couldn't remember what this Tower of Ishal was that everyone kept talking about, and wasn't really a hundred percent sure that he had actually taken this 'Joining'. Still, he tried not to worry about all that. "My name is Hosomaki. My surname is... um, Surana," he said out loud.

The others stared at him, waiting for more. (Except for Morrigan and Cel, who were wearing identical expressions of angry boredom.)

"Um," he said again. "I think I remember something about my friend Jowan being a blood mage and Duncan rescuing me, but I'm not really sure."

"... right," said SacredBob. "How about the Crazy Elf Lady?" He looked towards the glowering woman sitting apart from everyone else.

"What's your name?" said Kalamari, undaunted by that glower. Hosomaki trembled a bit under it.

"You know, refusing to talk is only going to get you so far," said SacredBob. "Pretty please?"

"Come on," Kalamari said. "We're just trying to be friendly."

"Tell me your name or my spell will freeze you into the next Age," said Morrigan.

"Add that to a strategically placed knife in your back," said Tim. "Perhaps some skilled torture will loosen your tongue?"

"Er..." said Alistair. "Do we really need to resort to violence?"

"... why not?" said Tim, looking a bit bemused by the question.

"Do your worst," rasped the elf. The group froze and stared at her.

"You spoke! That's a great start." Kalamari beamed.

"I wish only for death," said Cel. "No shem or shem-lover deserves to know me, save as your murderer."

"Perhaps you should run headlong into the next group of darkspawn, then," said Morrigan.

"Somehow, I can't help agreeing," said Alistair, watching them both with great suspicion.

Xox

"You know," said Billybob as they came within sight of the small village of Lothering, "as the last Grey Wardens _ever_-"

"Alistair said that there's more in Orlais," interrupted Kalamari.

"- yes, whatever – and seeing as we're the only ones _ever_ to know about this Loghain's change of heart, and seeing as this man is now the most powerful man in Ferelden, do you think he might be trying to hunt us down?"

There was a silence as everyone contemplated this idea.

"Of course he is," said Tim. "No sane person would hesitate in disposing of such threats, especially when we are in such a weak position. I have only been wondering how to avoid such an outcome."

"We're all impressed," muttered SacredBob under his breath. The recent 'civilised discussion on group leadership' had turned into a display of 'who could throw the most painful mocking insult while still looking like a stuck-up noble' between himself and Tim, and thus he was not feeling in the most generous mood towards her. Although everyone now knew that he could kick her ass with hilarious innuendo - though it was vice versa when it came to subtle yet devastating (and all politically correct) insults – the talk hadn't really accomplished very much else.

"So... what did you come up with?" said Kalamari.

"There will no doubt be lies and slander spread wherever this Loghain has passed in his retreat. Presumably this town's guards will have been alerted to a group of seven Wardens. We separate and move into the town in small groups, careful not to arouse any suspicion."

"Separate?" said Hosomaki vacantly.

"We reconvene after restocking our supplies and acquiring information on the next best move, and camp for the night on the other side of this Highway. We can then discuss our further options there. On no account whatsoever should any of us reveal our true identities. That means no names, no fighting, no Grey Wardens, no mages. Do _not_ let yourself stand out."

"Does Loghain even _know_ our names?" said Kalamari. "He seemed a bit... overwhelmed, what with the whole six of us new recruits."

"We will stay on the safe side," said Tim. "Any further questions?"

"Yeah," said Billybob. "How are we splitting up?"

"Dibs on not going with Cel," said SacredBob.

"I call seconds," said Alistair, backing away from her.

"I will accompany Billybob," said Tim, in a tone that would have been more appropriate if Billybob had been a sea slug. "Since we are both dwarves, it will attract less attention. Perhaps you should split into racial groups too?"

"That way, we don't have to worry about Cel. Done!" said SacredBob.

Xox

"Hello!" said Kalamari as they approached the "toll takers" at the steps of Lothering. "How are you today?"

"Huh?" said the bandit, a little off-put. "We're... great. Now, this is a toll booth, and we need ten silvers from all travellers passing through. Got it?"

"That's great!" beamed Kalamari. "I'm good too. But I didn't know there was a toll booth here! That's really annoying, actually..."

"Ten silvers," said the man.

"That's the rules," said another.

"Do you have ten silvers?" said Kalamari to the other two. "I... don't."

Hosomaki didn't have time to reply before a scream of pain ripped through the air. They whirled around to see one of the "toll takers" drop to the ground, a bloom of blood spreading across his back, with Cel standing behind him and giggling madly.

"Oh, Andraste's curtainbutts," swore Kalamari, before leaping in to help Cel. "What'd she do that for?"

"That... didn't even make sense..." said Hosomaki, trying to imagine what a curtain's butt looked like.

A few frenzied minutes later, the "toll takers" were lying dead on the ground and Hosomaki looked as if he was going to pass back into traumatised shock.

"Hosomaki?" said Kalamari. "Come on, we should go."

"Erk," said Hosomaki.

"They were probably bandits, anyway," said Kalamari. "Everyone knows that the Imperial Highway fee is really eight silvers."

Xox

"I knew we shouldn't have let Cel into a human settlement," said SacredBob, kicking aside a dead bandit's arm.

Morrigan – who was wearing a borrowed tunic from Kalamari – looked down at the blood-splattered scene. "The less annoyances on this road, the better, I say," she said.

"Whatever," said Bob. "But didn't that stuck-up princess say 'No fighting'? Ah well, let's just get to this town's inn and have some drinks already. Whaddaya say?"

FlowerPower barked happily.

Xox

"How's it shaping?" grunted Billybob as they passed a caged prisoner.

"Fine," said the prisoner. Billybob squeaked.

"_Now_ what is it?" said Tim, turning around. "Must you really be _quite_ so irritating?"

"That giant just said 'Fine,' to me," said Billybob. "I wasn't expecting a reply..."

"And who are you?" said Tim to the giant in the cage.

"I am Sten."

"What are you doing in that cage? A prisoner of war?"

"This is my atonement."

"Gets straight to the point, doesn't he?" said Billybob.

"Be quiet, duster. Atonement for what, exactly?"

"I killed a family. I wait for the darkspawn to come upon this village and complete my sentence."

"I see," said Tim. She turned to go.

"Hey!" said Billybob, grabbing her arm. She shook him off, scowling. "He's a _giant_. He could help us with the Blight if we help him out of there."

"And why exactly would I want a convicted murderer to be travelling with us?"

"Er... because he can murder the darkspawn?"

The giant watched them, expressionless.

"Enough. We're going, Billybob," said Tim.

"Would you help fight the Blight if we released you?" said Billybob. Tim made a sound of disbelief and tapped her foot impatiently.

"My atonement is in death."

"Yes, but you could atone better if you helped save the world, couldn't you? Who's got the key to your cage?" Billybob said.

"The Chantry's Revered Mother. I am content with waiting for death here."

"Okay, we can go now," said Billybob to Tim. "So, Tim... want to go the Chantry just for a looksee?"

Xox

"Doing good deeds for people makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside," said Kalamari as they unpinned the fulfilled request from the Chantry board.

"These coins make it even better," said Hosomaki, counting the silvers inside the jangling bag. "Are there any more notices up there?"

"And Cel likes it too!" said Kalamari as she read through a few more pleas for help. The recent slew of bandit killings had really energised their companion. She was practically dancing with glee at her recent chain of four consecutive decapitations.

"But Kala," said Hosomaki, suddenly remembering something, "didn't Princess Tim say not to fight or draw attention to ourselves? And I was doing a lot of magic back there too..."

"Oh yeah," said Kalamari. "Um. About that."

"Still, I get the feeling that it doesn't really matter," said Hosomaki, creasing his brow. "It's probably all fine."

"Let's hope you're right," said Kalamari. "Hello, arguing people! Can we help?"

"Look, stranger, I've a hundred silvers if you'll-" started the merchant, before Cel quickly drew her rusty old dagger across his jugular. Kalamari groaned and covered her eyes. Hosomaki wondered what he could have done to get the hundred silvers.

Xox

"Another ale over here!" shouted SacredBob. There was an "aye" sound from the barkeeper and a bustle of motion.

Morrigan looked at him with disgust. "I suppose this is the best you can do with the darkspawn at our heels?"

"Oh come on, Morrigan, you just need to lighten up a bit," said Bob, taking a gulp of his newly arrived drink.

"I don't know," said Alistair. "Are you sure this is the best way to go? Shouldn't we be using the treaties and finding Arl Eamon?"

"Drink your ale and stop being such a party pooper, Alistair! Besides, you know we can't do anything until tomorrow, thanks to Tim's wonderful plan."

"Yes, but-"

"So, boys, weren't we asking around for a Grey Warden of this description just this morning?" said a low and menacing voice from behind Bob. He yelped and looked around.

"Actually, Morrigan here's a gi-"

"And here we've got one in the flesh. Isn't that right, boys?"

"-rl," said Bob. "So am I, actually. Yeah. Hey, what d'you mean, _one_?"

"Does he mean me?" said Alistair.

"That's right," said the low and menacing voice. "Get them!"

"Just like what happened last time I went drinking," muttered Bob as he whipped out his sword and shield. (He had been sitting on them as part of the no-weapons-disguise.) "Wait, where did that Chantry girl come from?"

A scuffle and a spilt drink later, the owner of the low and menacing voice was begging for mercy on the floor. FlowerPower was sitting on him, looking pleased with himself.

"I say he dies," said Morrigan. "Surely letting him go running back to his master would no doubt draw more attention to our presence."

"No!" said the Chantry sister. SacredBob looked at her in surprise. "Show them mercy. They do not deserve to die here."

"I don't know if you noticed, Morrigan, but we've already drawn a whole inn-ful of attention," said Alistair.

"Er... yes," said SacredBob. "Go and tell Loghain that we're coming for him. Oh, and buy me another mug of ale."

Xox

"I'll make this simple," said Tim, advancing on the woman. "You give me that key around your neck now, and nobody gets hurt today. Yes, I can take care of the murderer – and you. No, you will not be calling for help. See these weapons here?" She nodded to Billybob, who reluctantly stepped behind the Revered Mother and put a knife to her throat. "And no, I will not be donating anything to this superstitious human nonsense of yours, so kindly _shut up_."

A few minutes later, Tim strode out of the Chantry with a key in her pocket and Billybob trailing behind her.

"What in the Stone did you do that for?" he said.

"And here I thought bullying would come a bit easier to you, duster," she said, glaring at him. "If you hadn't insisted on this whole idiotic venture in the first place, I wouldn't have had to resort to such crude tactics. A pity that subtler approaches were not possible with this case."

"How about the art of gentle persuasion?" said Billybob incredulously. "Miss Lady Aeducan, huh? And the whole 'don't draw attention to yourself' thing?"

"You wanted to release a sentenced murderer! How are we _not_ supposed to draw attention with that kind of behaviour? Ancestor's breath, I swear, except for this Blight behind us there is nothing else in the Deep Roads or beyond that would stop me from twisting this dagger into your eye socket right now!"

"So now this is all _my_ fault?"

"Yes, you the immature and irresponsible good-for-nothing duster who sulks and threatens me with a Proving to the death – as if you're even worthy of such an honour in the Provings, you casteless thug – right here in the middle of this village if we don't immediately drop all our priorities to release an oversized killer back into society!"

"That was a joke!" said Billybob. "Don't take yourself so seriously next time, then! And what do you mean, casteless thug? Your head seems to have a problem with remembering that A, you're just as casteless as anyone up here in _your exile_, and B, your little stint with that Chantry mother showed just how much of a thug _you_ are."

"Don't be impertinent," said Tim. "My exile will not last forever, and when I am properly reinstated, you can count on it that you will be dealt with."

"Sure thing, _milady_. Let's just go and unlock the giant."

Xox

"Wait a moment," said Bob. "So... _what_?"

"I-I know that sounds... absolutely insane, but it's true! I had a dream... a vision!" said Leliana, the helpful (and surprisingly violent) Chantry sister now covered in blood.

"More crazy? I thought we were all full up," said Alistair, "what with the deranged elf lady and the Witch of the Wilds here." Morrigan did not look impressed.

"A... vision?" said Bob. "Come again?"

"The Maker sent me to you, I know it. I can help you! I can fight – and more than that – and I know that you must need all the help that you can get."

"Righty ho," Bob said, backing away a little. "I don't know what you've heard, but we're not actually Grey Wardens. I'm the Queen of Navarra, actually."

"How much did you have to drink?" said Alistair.

Xox

Kalamari, Hosomaki and Cel did not have to go very far on the road leading north out of Lothering before they found the camp. It seemed that the rest of the group had set up the site without them, but with the addition of a few new members.

"Hi guys!" said Kalamari, bounding in. "Morrigan, do you want to keep my clothes for a while? Ooh, new people! Are you both helping us with the Blight and all?"

"It appears so," said the larger one.

"His name's Sten," said Billybob. "He says he's a qunari, whatever that is. He doesn't talk very much..."

"Nice to meet you, Sten," said Kalamari, holding out her hand. He didn't take it. "And what's your name? I'm Kalamari."

"Leliana," said Leliana. "Oh! You have elves? How delightful!"

Cel hissed from the shadows.

Xox

"So I think we should split up again," said SacredBob, unrolling a map of Ferelden. "We need to get a treaty looked over by these three groups-" he pointed at the three appropriate locations, "-and I don't thinking wasting time by traipsing all over Ferelden is going to help much with the Blight just there."

"Really?" said Hosomaki. "I... don't think the spread of the Blight depends on how long we take... does that make sense?"

"Er... no," said Bob. "But never mind. Groups of three or four should do, since there're eleven of us. Good?"

"What about Arl Eamon?" said Alistair. "Shouldn't we send a party to ask him for help too?"

"Oh yeah," said Bob. "Okay. Er... how about we stop by Redcliffe on the way to Orzammar, then?"

"We need to set a date to reassemble our group before we march to confront Loghain. We don't need any of us to waste time in inns while wondering when we can proceed," said Tim with a sharp look at Bob.

"Orzammar's a long journey," said SacredBob. "If we have to take a detour to Redcliffe for a few days to discuss politics with Arl Eamon, that's going to take even longer..."

"And how in Andraste's armpits are we supposed to find the Dalish?" said Kalamari. She looked at Cel, who pointedly ignored her.

"At least the Circle Tower will be straightforward," said Bob. "I hate this."

Xox

"So that's me, Cel, Morrigan and Sten to find the Dalish," said Kalamari the next morning, counting on her fingers.

"And where do you propose we shall start to look for them?" said Morrigan, now back in her usual clothes, or lack thereof. "'Tis a waste of time, searching this endless forest here for the help of a few unsociable elves. At least that is the impression I get from our Dalish companion here."

"No idea," said Bob. "Good luck with that! Remember, we meet in Redcliffe in exactly four weeks time. Please don't forget because that would just be annoying. And don't let Cel kill anyone else."

"I suppose you're hoping that the fact that they are Dalish elves like herself will help with that," said Tim. "Tell me again, why are you coming with me to Orzammar? Still trying to challenge me for the right to lead, are you?"

"I... forgot my reasoning," said Bob. "We'll sort it out on the road. Come on, FlowerPower." Alistair followed behind all three of them, well out of the way of Bob and Tim's leadership arguments.

The other three – Hosomaki, Leliana and Billybob – set off north for the Circle Tower, and wondered which of them should be the leader. None of them really felt up to the job.

**to be continued**

_A/N: Might not be updated for some time after this chapter, sorry. I'm... actually starting to ship Bob/Kalamari. Eh?  
_


	4. In which Redcliffe is saved

**Part IV**  
_SacredBob, Tim, FlowerPower and Alistair head off to Redcliffe. A zombie army is waiting for them._

**Xox**

"-by dogs," Alistair was saying. "Big ones, from the Anderfels."

"Ah. I see," said Tim, and if Bob hadn't known better he could have sworn that there was a hint of a smile on her (prissy, stuck-up) face. "I can hardly tell."

"Probably some ploy to get him her on her side, I bet," he muttered to no-one in particular. "_You_ don't like her, do you, FlowerPower? And I _am_ a better leader than her. Aren't I?"

FlowerPower woofed. Bob wasn't sure if that was a 'yes' or a 'no', but he scratched FlowerPower behind the ears anyway. FlowerPower woofed a bit more happily.

"Ahem!" said Bob loudly enough for the pair in front to stop in surprise.

"-didn't like cheese," finished Alistair as he looked up from Tim to Bob.

Tim smiled at him before turning to Bob too. "What is it?" she snapped.

"I think we're nearly there. Redcliffe, I mean. See? The red cliffs? A very creatively named village, isn't it?"

"Oh good," said Alistair. "And... there's something you two should know, before we go inside the castle."

"Let me guess: You're an idiot," said Bob, still not feeling in the most charitable of moods towards Tim or her new project. Tim gave him her best 'not impressed' look.

"Yes, that's right. I stopped you to tell you I'm an idiot. Whew! Thank the Maker you know already! Now I can stop worrying I'll be found out."

"What can I say?" said Bob, holding up his hands. "I do have an eye for these things."

"What is it, Alistair?" said Tim, stepping slightly forwards so as to exclude Bob from the conversation.

"Right," said Alistair. "I told you before how Arl Eamon raised me, right? That my mother was a serving girl at the castle and he took me in?"

"You did?" said Bob.

"Do you have a problem with something?" retorted Tim.

"I mean, yes. You did. With the crazy old witch and everything."

"Very good, _Bob_," said Tim.

"Sarcasm doesn't suit the noble, really," said SacredBob. "Oh wait, you're no-"

"If you're finished...?" Alistair said. "As I was saying, the reason he did that was because... well, because my father was King Maric. Which made Cailan my... half-brother, I suppose."

"Excuse me?" said Tim, looking incredulous. "You're the heir to the Ferelden throne? A _prince_?"

"So... you're not just a bastard but a royal bastard?" said Bob, trying to get his mind around this.

"Yes... good one," said Alistair, looking more awkward than anybody that either of the others had ever seen. "Who no-one knows about. So no thrones for me, I hope."

"You hope?" said Tim, looking even more incredulous. "You could be ruling this country, and you've chosen to _hide_ that fact?"

"Oh no no, stop there," said Alistair. He backed away from her. "My mother was a commoner, and on top of that I'm a Grey Warden too. I'm really not going to be raising any rebellions or taking over the throne. _Really_, really."

"But you-" Tim looked close to an explosion, so Bob hastily interrupted.

"Er, I understand," he said. "Thanks for telling us."

"Really?" said Alistair, relieved. Tim spluttered a bit. "I would have told you earlier, but... it's never meant anything to me, and it's just... brought nothing but problems."

"What do you mean, never meant anything?" said Tim. "You're the last surviving member of the royal house and it doesn't _mean anything_? How can you even think that?"

"Look, I never asked for any part of this whole royal mess and that's it!" said Alistair. "Can we... just continue on our way to see Arl Eamon now?"

Xox

There were two things foremost in Tim's mind at this moment. One, she would put Alistair on the throne of Ferelden whether he wanted it or not (as a member of the Orzammaran noble caste, she just could not comprehend his rejection of his status as part of the nobility). Two, she would need to arrange things so that she had as much access to this political power as possible, and the best way to ensure such an arrangement was for him to fall in love with her. Emotional attachments often produced many times the loyalty gained from blackmail and her usual methods – especially since her plans to return to Orzammar meant that she could not keep an eye on the working of Ferelden – and this boy seemed like an easy as well as perfect target for such a plan.

She just needed to watch out for that SacredBob, though. While he did not seem like the politician type to her, he had made a great nuisance of himself already and had been the only one to challenge her for leadership of their small group. Perhaps he was after power himself – though that seemed unlikely – or perhaps he just had a personal vendetta against her. He also seemed slightly more experienced in the ways of the world than Alistair, and having him see through her plans and tell the prince of it should be avoided at all costs. In times of doubt, playing nice was usually the best strategy.

"I owe you an apology, SacredBob," she said with what was hopefully the utmost sincerity. "I realise I have not always put myself in the best light towards you, and that we have argued incessantly even when our goals have been the same. I hope we can begin anew."

"I'm sorry, what?" said Bob, not very elegantly. "You're _apologising_?"

"Why the disbelieving tone?" said Tim. "I am making a sincere effort so that we can avoid future arguments when we _should_ be united against the Blight!"

"You didn't even want to be here to begin with," said SacredBob. "And you've always been the one to start the arguments about who we should follow."

"Of course I didn't! I _wanted_ to take my father's place as the ruler of the dwarven kingdom, not to go traipsing around on the surface! But now that I have accepted my place as a Grey Warden, you have my word that I will do all that I can against the darkspawn – as I always have done. And may I remind you that it is only _your_ insistence on 'leading' us even though _I _am the one with years of experience fighting the darkspawn in the Deep Roads and commanding expeditions that leads to any arguments?"

"All you've done so far is to show just how self-interested and arrogant you are," said SacredBob angrily. "Of course I don't want to follow someone like that!"

"And what makes you think that _you_ are better suited for the role?" Tim belatedly remembered that she was meant to be extending a cordial (even if ultimately self-interested) hand of friendship.

"At least I'm _nice_," said Bob.

Tim made a disparaging snort of a noise. "I'm sure that that will lead to great things in the midst of battle. We don't need niceness in a fi-"

"We're practically the last couple of Wardens in Ferelden and the whole country's out to get us. We need to work on our image and start getting support, or we'll be playing right into Loghain's hands!"

"Are you two done yet?" said Alistair, a little tiredly. FlowerPower whined in agreement. "We're coming up to the village now, and having you two arguing constantly isn't good for our mighty Grey Warden image."

"Of course," said Tim, moving over to his side.

Xox

"Of course we'd be glad to help," said SacredBob before Tim could reply. "Nothing like fighting off an army of rotting undead, right? It'll be _fun_!"

"Nothing at all," said Tim, feeling that the only exception to that would be calling for SacredBob's execution. Alistair seemed to approve of this answer, though, so she put off her annoyance for now.

"Thank you! Thank you, this... means more to me than you can guess," said the Bann.

"If you say so," Tim said. She was beginning to regret this already. "We're never going to reach Orzammar, are we now?" she muttered to Bob.

Xox

"Hello?" said Bob to the non-responsive door.

"Open up the door or have it broken down. Your choice," said Tim.

"You don't have to get out the bullying card _all_ the time," said Bob.

"If it works, why not?" Tim replied as they heard the clunk of locks being opened.

"You know what," said Bob, his hand hovering above the door handle, "why don't we just split up again to get this village sorted out, like last time at Lothering? We've only got until sundown, so let's do the efficient thing and... yeah."

"If I can trust you not to spend the afternoon in the tavern spending all our money on drinks – like last time at Lothering," said Tim.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" said Alistair. "I'm... not good at doing things myself."

"Sure thing, Tim. Besides, there weren't any zombie attacks at Lothering," Bob said. "Alistair, you can go with Tim, I suppose, since I'll have FlowerPower here. All good?"

"Is someone out there?" said a voice from inside the now unlocked smithy.

Xox

"I want a promise. Promise me that you'll look for her, that you'll bring her back to me if you can," said Owen the blacksmith.

Tim sighed in exasperation. "A _promise_? This is getting ridi-"

"We just have to take a look around," said Alistair, nudging her. "We need the weapons..."

"Of course," said Tim to the blacksmith a little too quickly. She did need Alistair on her side, after all. "I give you my word that we will look for your daughter. Will that do?"

"I'll accept that. It's something to hope for, at least," said Owen. "And I suppose there's no point in me sitting around, is there? Time to re-light the forge and get the smithy going, hey? Murdock'll be pleased."

"Good," said Tim. "Shall we go, Alistair?"

Xox

SacredBob, meanwhile, was indeed in the tavern.

"But I'm not wasting our money on drinks," he said to FlowerPower, who barked happily. "See anyone suspicious?"

"Eek," said an elf in the corner at the sight of the Mabari sniffing his feet.

"_That_ was suspicious," said Bob. "Who are you?"

"I... I'm no-one important! I swear!"

"Are you just _trying_ to be suspicious, now? Who are you?"

"I'm not suspicious! I'm just sitting here, minding my own business... that's all!"

"Fine," said SacredBob. "I'll just sit here... and wait... and stare at you disconcertingly like this..."

"Okay, okay!" said the elf, attempting to back away while still sitting on the stool. "Stop staring at me like that! Just because you're a Grey Warden doesn't mean you can do things like that!"

"Oh, and how did you know that I was a Grey Warden?"

"I just... overheard it. That's all."

"This is just getting annoying," said Bob. "Seriously, why are you here?"

"Fine! Fine!" said the elf. "Just stop staring at me! He... I mean, they paid me to watch the castle and report back if anything changed. They didn't say anything about walking corpses! I just got stuck here when they appeared!"

"Who paid you?"

"This tall fellow, I forgot his name. He, uhh, said he was working for Howe. Arl Rendon Howe. I wasn't doing anything wrong!"

"I hate you and you are going to die a bloody torturous death," muttered Bob to the mental image of Arl Howe. The elf squeaked. "Not you, I mean."

Xox

The thing with suspicious doors that seemed to light up when you squinted at them was that there was usually something good inside them. The fact that this particular door was the only one in this part of the village that Tim could knock on was enough of an incentive for her to deliver a swift kick to bring it down.

"Wonderful. Intruders. I hope you've a good reason for breaking and entering into my home," said the dwarf in front of them.

"I was hoping you could tell me that reason," said Tim. Alistair shuffled his feet nervously. "Who are you? Another dwarf in this place?"

"The name's Dwyn. Pleased to meet you. Now, kindly get out."

"How long have you been away from Orzammar, _Dwyn_?" said Tim, stepping forwards. "I'll go where I like, thank you very much."

There was a flicker of recognition on the dwarf's face, and he stepped back. "Fine, fine. Not like I could stop you."

"Good. Now, tell me why you've barricaded yourself into this hovel."

"What does it look like? Surviving. I'm not sticking my head out the door to get eaten by corpses, unlike the rest of those suicidal morons."

Tim turned to her right and said, "Gorim, who is-" before realising that Alistair was not, in fact, her second and probably wouldn't know which caste this Dwyn was from either. She turned back to Dwyn, feeling a bit daft. "I see you're not helping to defend this village, coward."

"Look, lady, did I stutter? I'm not going out there to die when I'm perfectly safe in my until-recently-barricaded home."

If it had not been Alistair beside her at that moment, Tim would not have hesitated before telling this dwarf exactly what she thought of his disrespect and where he could put it before slitting one of his henchmen's throats and threatening him with the same treatment unless he got his backside out there. Unfortunately, she suspected that Alistair would not approve of this kind of behaviour, being the nice much-too-innocent boy that he was. Damn it.

She steeled herself before saying in her most politically persuasive tone yet, "I'll put in a good word for you with Bann Teagan or the arl. How about that?" while trying not to vomit from the sheer _niceness_ of it. She wondered how low she'd have to stoop just to gain this Alistair's (_heir to the Ferelden throne,_ she thought firmly) approval. It was already getting rather annoying.

Stupid Alistair.

Xox

SacredBob was in quite a good mood. Not only had he helped out a damsel in distress by reaching into his inner hardass and forcing that Lloyd out onto the battlefield, he had gotten a few free drinks from it too. FlowerPower bounded along happily beside him and almost ran into an armour-clad knight.

"Good afternoon, men!" he said to Ser Perth and his surrounding knights while FlowerPower relieved himself on a nearby tree. "How's it going?"

"Greetings to you. I was curious about the stranger Bann Teagan placed in charge of our defense, but now I see his reasoning. You are obviously far from ordinary. I must admit that I do not know quite how to address you. Is "my lord" sufficient?" said the knight-commander.

Bob felt a little wrong-footed by this sort of talk since he certainly didn't feel very far from ordinary, and wondered if he'd had a few too many back in the tavern. "Er... yeah, sure. I am a Cousland, after all."

"Very well, then, my lord, I am humbly at your service."

"Er," said Bob, feeling even more awkward. He'd never been particularly good with all this fancy talk, and quite against his will he found himself wishing for Tim to take over from here. "D'you need anything?"

Xox

"We haven't been in there yet," said Alistair, pointing towards what Tim thought to be exactly the same wooden hut as they had just come out of.

"Really?" she said doubtfully. "I... suppose we could take a look."

They peered in through the door. "No, we haven't," said Alistair. "But I don't think there's anyone inside."

"There may be supplies in those barrels. I will take a look."

"Um, Tim?" said Alistair, hanging back while she rummaged through a box. "Don't you think looting all these poultices and weapons is a little bit like... theft? Are you sure we should be doing this?"

"Really?" said Tim doubtfully for the second time in two minutes. "I admit that I've never thought about it that way."

"But you just unpicked that locked chest and took all the contents," said Alistair. "I always thought people locked things to keep other people out of them..."

"Alistair, I don't think we should worry about it too much," said Tim determinedly. She didn't need Alistair's sense of honour to lose them what little they had in their backpacks. She turned on her 'persuasive politician' voice. "This is all for the best. Trust me."

"I also don't understand how you fit those two steel breastplates into your bag just now, along with all our other pieces of armour," said Alistair, still looking troubled.

"It's a skill," said Tim, feeling that it would be best for Alistair not to wonder about these things. "Could you check the barrels for me?"

Xox

"Oof!" said Bob as he literally ran into Tim and fell onto FlowerPower.

"Oh," said Tim, as if he was some rather unpleasant sticky substance that had planted itself onto her foot. "It's you. Have you been _drinking_?"

"It was free," said Bob defensively. "I didn't spend any money at all!"

"At least _two_ of us can fight tonight," said Tim. FlowerPower whined.

"Three," said Alistair, gesturing at the dog. "Do you think we're ready for the attack?"

Bob scowled. "I was on my way to Ser Perth to give him these amulets. What have you been doing?"

"I suppose we can tell him about the oil we found," said Tim to Alistair, tactfully emphasising the "we".

"Why did I let you take him with you?" said Bob to Tim. "I've got my eye on you, alright?"

"Never better," said Tim. Alistair looked vaguely confused. "Shall we continue on our way to this Ser Perth?"

Xox

After the first few waves of walking corpses had come and gone, Bob had decided that he thoroughly hated all forms and types of undead. For one thing, they smelt absolutely terrible. For another, they were _incredibly_ irritating to kill. Every time you thought you had one rotting dead body smashed to pieces on the floor, a few seconds later it would simply get up and punch you in the face. After the last two putrid fists shoved into his mouth had been dealt with, Bob was deeply regretting his decision to help with this battle. He didn't know how FlowerPower could stand it, seeing as his dog's way of fighting these corpses was literally to crunch their decomposing flesh in his mouth...

The other thing currently going through his mind was how impressive that dwarf not-princess's fighting skills were. As much as he loathed her 'strategic manoeuvres' and all-round conceited attitude, he had to admit that she had some skill with knifing zombies in the back and knowing exactly how to order people around. He just didn't think that he could trust her to win back any support for the Wardens – with her leading them, the people of Ferelden would probably flock to Loghain before he could put in a word edgeways.

"We've lost Lloyd!" shouted one of the knights or soldiers or someone.

"Never mind him; he was a groping bastard anyway!" Bob shouted back. "Come on, we're almost there!" he called after a short pause, feeling that the militia needed a little more encouragement.

"That's it," said Alistair, sounding very surprised. "There's no more!"

"Really?" said Bob, sounding even more surprised. "I didn't _actually_ think we were almost there... I was just getting the morale up."

"Good work, men" said Tim as she beheaded one final shambling skeleton and wiped her daggers on a small patch of grass.

"Why, thank you ever so much," said Bob.

"Sarcasm does not suit the noble, Teyrn Cousland," said Tim.

Xox

"Dawn arrives, and we survived the night. We are victorious!" announced Bann Teagan in the Chantry Hall. "And though this victory came at great cost, we must remember none of us would be here were it not for the heroism of those who stand beside me."

"Wait a moment," said Bob, "What do you mean, 'great cost'? The only dead guy on our side was that misogynistic waste of a bartender!"

Teagan looked a little taken aback. "I beg your pardon?"

"I see your point," said Tim to Bob, who looked even more taken aback at this show of support. "That was hardly any sort of great loss for us, especially considering that man's complete lack of fighting skills. Your words do not seem particularly fitting... and how do you know that this undead army will not rise again this evening?"

"Why are we complaining?" mumbled Alistair.

"I apologise for any slight," said Teagan, still looking rather taken aback as well as confused. "It was not intended. And, my lady, surely these people deserve some small celebration, don't you think? There is time yet."

"Lighten up, Tim," said Bob. "Haven't you ever heard of a morale boost?"

"There is no use in becoming complacent with the darkspawn to be fought."

"In any case," Teagan said, "this great blow struck against this evil army has been enough for me to enter the castle and seek out the arl."

"Wonderful," said Tim. "And how long do you expect that will take?"

"I do not know," said Teagan. "Meet me at the mill. We can talk further there, since we have no time to waste in here."

"Hey, wait a minute. I thought you just said that there was time yet. How are we wasting time, again?" said Bob.

"Do you _live_ for idiotic nitpicking?" said Tim. She glanced at Alistair. "Let us find Arl Eamon as soon as we can."

**to be continued...**

_A/N: Coming up next, the Dalish-hunting group. I feel like I'm losing steampower with this. *tries to keep going*_


	5. In which we meet the Dalish

**Part V**  
_Kalamari, the other elf who hasn't told the others her name, Morrigan and Sten head off to find the Dalish. Then they head off to find the werewolves._

**Xox**

"I _hate_ these forests!" shouted Kalamari, throwing down her battleaxe in frustration. The other three looked at her, unimpressed.

"I, for one, am glad we have such a _capable_ leader," said Morrigan. Sten grunted.

"We've been going in circles around these Brecilian woods for the better part of a week with no sign of the Dalish!" Kalamari cried. She ran her fingers through her vivid orange hair, realised that she hadn't washed properly in over three days, and made a face of pure desperation. "Maybe they've gone on holiday to Navarra... or something!"

"If they do not want to be found, there is no point in this search," said Sten.

"I agree," Morrigan said. "Perhaps turn to some more profitable use of our precious time."

"Maybe we _should_ just give up and go to Redcliffe already," said Kalamari, trying to calm down. She sat down despondently and picked up her axe. "What do you think, Cel?"

Cel, sitting down on a stump next to her, shrugged. She looked utterly miserable – and not just in her usual way. There had been a noted lack of bloody killings in the last week wandering through the woods, and it seemed to be taking its toll. Still, although Kalamari didn't whether it was because she was a fellow elf (even if she hated the woods of the Dalish) or because she had been merrily bugging Cel about her life and her name and generally being insanely nice to her, but Cel had definitely lightened up a little. Well, towards _her_, at least. Cel still hissed death threats to Morrigan and sometimes Sten whenever they ventured within ten yards. After her assassination attempts on Morrigan the first two nights, the other three had found it necessary to make clear just how fatal her punishment would be if the attempts continued.

"But it would be nice to find a nice Dalish clan," said Kalamari. "It might even be your own! Wouldn't that be great?" She beamed, and Cel shrugged again. Morrigan and Sten shared a weary look.

"We are going," said Sten. Morrigan followed.

"Hold, outsider. You may be of my kind, but you are not Dalish. Why are you here?"

Kalamari squealed in surprise and jumped up. "The Dalish! Oh, thank the Maker's elbow hairs, we've found you!"

"And so you have. But if you have no purpose here, then I suggest you turn around and return whence you came," said the Dalish woman in front of them.

"Cel?" said Kalamari, looking wildly around for her. "Cel? We've found them!"

The Dalish elf looked on in surprise as Cel materialised in front of her. "Andaran atish'an, my friend," she said, looking at the tattoos on Cel's face. "You have come a long way. I give you the welcome of our clan."

"We're with her," said Kalamari, waving over Sten and Morrigan. "Can we come too?"

"Your clan is off to the north, the last I heard. What brings you so far, friend?" said the strange elf to Cel, ignoring Kalamari.

"The Blight," said Cel. It continued to surprise Kalamari (not to mention Sten and Morrigan) that Cel could actually talk, because getting any sound more than a grunt of exertion from her was like trying to push a mountain into a mole hole.

"The Blight?" said the other Dalish elf. "We have heard news of the darkspawn, if you have come to warn us?"

"I come for the Grey Wardens," said Cel. She coughed. Talking was bad for her throat...

"The Grey Wardens? You... have joined their ranks? How unusual! Excuse my surprise... I will take you to the keeper right away. Are these others with you?"

"The flat-ear," said Cel. She turned resolutely away from Morrigan and Sten. "Kill the shem."

"Morrigan and Sten are coming too," Kalamari said, shaking Cel's shoulder. To the other elf's credit, she didn't immediately twist around and plunge a dagger into Kalamari's face. (The first time Kalamari had tried to take her arm in a friendly and comforting way, she had ended up on the floor with a split lip and a broken nose. Luckily, Morrigan had been there with a healing spell at the ready.) "We need all the help we can get!"

"Come with me, and keep your hands to yourself," said the strange elf as she led them through the forest.

Xox

"Werewolves?" said Kalamari gleefully. "I love werewolves! I mean, um, I love _killing_ werewolves. Witherfang? No problem! Of course I'll help you."

Zathrian did not look very impressed, but he nodded. "I must return to caring for my people. Creators' speed on your way."

"Do you think that elf over there needs some help?" said Kalamari thoughtfully after he had gone. She was gazing around the camp, apparently looking for anyone whose lives she could brighten. "That group over there don't look very happy..."

"I suppose you want to talk to every single elf in this camp and solve each of their little problems," said Morrigan. "'Twould be a fine waste of time, if that is indeed what you are thinking."

"Well, yes, I _was_ thinking about that," said Kalamari. "Besides, you don't want to go into the forest with the scary werewolves straightaway, do you?"

"We must press on," said Sten.

"I quite agree," said Morrigan. "Leave these people to their own sad fates. I am sure that they deserve them."

"Well, I don't agree. There's no harm in talking to people, you know," said Kalamari resolutely. "Besides, it'll be good for Cel if she stays here for a while." Indeed, Cel was already sitting by the fire listening quietly to the storyteller, and looking more content and _normal_ than she had ever looked before.

Morrigan scowled. "'Tis your choice, I suppose."

"Hi there!" said Kalamari to a sad-looking elf near the fire. "What's wrong?"

"Err... hello?" said the elf.

"Hello!" said Kalamari. "Are you okay and everything?"

"I'm sorry; I'm not used to dealing with outsiders... th-though we do get people like you from time to time. Elves from the city, I mean. Uh... I mean, I should introduce myself. I-I'm Cammen, a hunter apprentice."

"That's alright," said Kalamari. "But are you sure you're okay? You look pretty miserable."

"Oh, no... uh, nothing. I shouldn't be talking about it, really..."

"Come on," Kalamari said, patting him on the shoulder. "It might make you feel better!"

"I... suppose there's no harm in it," said Cammen. "I've been an apprentice for too long. To become a true hunter, I must bring back the pelt of a beast I killed myself. A boar or a wolf or... something. I wanted to hunt in the forest, but we're forbidden to enter because of the attack. But... the real problem is Gheyna."

"Gheyna? Ooh, what's that?"

"She... she's my heart's desire."

"Aw," said Kalamari, feeling her heart melt a little inside. "That's so sweet."

"Another hopeless romantic, I see," said Morrigan behind her. Kalamari ignored her.

"But she refuses me! She says I am a child and that she cannot bond with me... but I am no child! I just, uh, cannot hunt..."

"I say we leave him to his well-deserved misery," said Morrigan. "He is obviously not worthy of this girl, even if I did care to have an opinion on this situation."

"A pragmatic solution," said Sten. They both fixed Kalamari with a disapproving stare.

"Aw," said Kalamari again, ignoring Morrigan and Sten completely. "Well... have you tried talking to her? Showing her that you truly, deeply, really love her? Giving her a bouquet of roses and declaring your everlasting and eternal affection?"

"I've serenaded her, and we've talked many times under the moon. But that doesn't matter if I am still an apprentice. Not to her," said Cammen sadly.

"Don't worry," said Kalamari, taking him by the arm. "I'm going to _make_ it happen. Who is Ghenya, anyway?"

"Uh... over there," said Cammen as he was dragged along the ground.

Xox

"Hello. I'm not afraid of you; I'm a great Dalish warrior!" said the boy. Cel stared at him listlessly. "It's too bad you had to leave your clan. You must miss them."

She coughed throatily. "I do," she said.

"That's sad," said the boy.

Cel grunted.

"When I grow up, I wanna be just like you!" he said after a few seconds of staring at the shiny new cleaver and knife on her back. (Kalamari had forced her to use some new weapons she had bought, since her old and almost completely rusted dagger was apparently a health and safety hazard.)

She shook her head. "Don't."

Xox

"Hello, Gheyna!" said Kalamari brightly, coming to a halt. Cammen tripped over her boots. "I've heard all about you from Cammen. Don't you see that you two are destined to be together? Surely it's clear from your fates that true love will..."

"Perhaps we should go," said Sten as Kalamari continued with her grand speech of True Love.

"A very good idea," said Morrigan.

They had managed to walk two full circuits of the Dalish camp before Kalamari seemed to even come close to a conclusion.

"... and so, Gheyna, you see it is just inevitable that you and Cammen are bound together by the strings of fortune and thus shall be together always." She nodded firmly.

"I... sorry?" said Gheyna.

"Yes," said Kalamari, still nodding.

"... huh?" said Cammen.

"Oh, she's stopped," said Morrigan. "I was beginning to wonder when this torture would be over."

"Be quiet, you," said Kalamari. "You obviously don't understand the importance of True Love."

"I am incredibly thankful for that," said Sten.

Xox

Next on the list of People To Help Out was an old crafter.

"Ironwood bark," said Kalamari. "Got it. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"That is all that I ask. Thank you for your offer."

"That's fine! Hmm... do you want to trade, by any chance?"

"I am no merchant, but let us trade. Perhaps there is something here which will be of value to you."

"Woah," said Kalamari, looking at the pile. "That is a _lot_ of elfroot. And deathroot. And toxin samples. Why... what... how do you store so much?"

"Elfroot is essential for my poultices," said Morrigan, looking at the impressive heap. "Buy plenty, for we will have need of it."

"I will," said Kalamari, still eyeballing the heap. "I just... _how_ is there so much of it?"

"It is an invaluable herb," said Varathorn. "We simply collect the leaves as we pass through the forest."

"Alright," said Kalamari dubiously. "How much would you like for, let's see, two hundred and forty-one elfroot stems, then? And this backpack?"

"I'm afraid that I can only sell the elfroot in bundles of ninety-nine at a time. The backpack will be ten silvers."

"Here you are for that, then. Okay. I'd like two bundles of ninety-nine and another bundle of... um, forty-three elfroot, then."

"Fifty nine silvers and forty bits, and again, and another twenty five silvers and eighty bits."

"That was quick calculating," Kalamari said, counting out the coins. "Here you go!" She scooped up the giant pile of elfroot she had bought and somehow managed to fit it into the new backpack. Morrigan raised her eyebrows at the feat. What was even more impressive was that the pile of elfroot beside Varathorn – that had just previously lost two hundred and forty-one of its members – seemed to swell and grow back to its original size. Kalamari looked back at it and couldn't quite believe her eyes.

"That's... actually a never-ending supply," she said. "How do you even _do_ that?"

"Perhaps the better question is why this elf needs to take our gold for these herbs when he clearly has no lack of them," said Morrigan.

Xox

"Aneth ara, friend. It is good to see another of the wandering clans. Where is your clan now, if I might ask?" said an elf as Cel passed by looking for Kalamari.

"They went north," she said, feeling that as this elf _was_ one of the Dalish, she should at least try to restrain her murderous urges and reply civilly to his question instead of killing him on the spot. That would be bad.

"I see. I am glad you have become part of such a respectful organization as the Grey Wardens, however."

She nodded. She liked things to be straightforward (which usually meant slitting their throat or putting an arrow in their mouth before they could bother her), and if she shook her head then this kindly elf would just ask her why she felt that way and then she'd have to talk more and that would just be annoying.

"I understand you will search for the wolves in the Brecilian Forest. I would join you, but Zathrian has... forbidden me."

Cel nodded again.

"It is an unhappy situation, and I for one have cause to search the forest... But I should not keep you from your tasks any longer. Dareth shiral, friend, and may the Creators watch over your journey."

"Dareth shiral," said Cel hoarsely.

Xox

"Ready to go yet?" said Kalamari as she narrowly avoided bumping into Cel running through the camp.

"Surely these elves should be aiding us, rather than the other way round," said Sten. "It seems a waste of time."

"If they cannot save themselves from wolves, what good are they going to be against the darkspawn?" Morrigan added.

"We have another three weeks before we meet up at Redcliffe, anyway," said Kalamari. "We might as well try to help this clan!"

"Everything with you is about _helping_," said Morrigan with a little disgust.

"And... so what?" said Kalamari. "You guys don't _have_ to follow me if you don't want to, you know..."

"We shall see how long we last," said Morrigan. "Lead the way."

Xox

"Hrrr. The watch-wolves have spoken truly, my brothers and sisters," said the werewolf.

Kalamari giggled happily. "Werewolves! I mean, oh no. Werewolves."

"Werewolves are not supposed to talk," said Morrigan.

"Really?" said Kalamari. "That other one we met did as well. Though that was actually a Fade spirit in disguise... anyway, this is so cool!"

"Another of the Dalish, come to put us in our place, come to make us pay for our attack," continued the lead werewolf, ignoring them.

"Well... I'm not actually Dalish," said Kalamari, looking around for Cel. She wasn't there. "But that's okay. Hello there, werewolves! So what're your names?"

Sten and Morrigan looked at her incredulously. As they often did. Sten was of the opinion that both elves were as mad as each other, though he had yet to voice that thought.

The werewolf looked a little surprised, too. "You speak to Swiftrunner. I lead my cursed brothers and sisters. Hrrrr. Turn back now, go back to the Dalish and tell them that you have failed."

"Failed...? Oh right, I forgot about all that heart stuff! But you know, you-"

"Enough!" growled Cel, leaping out of the shadows. Her axe cut into Swiftrunner's side, and he growled in pain and anger before taking a swipe at the elf. Morrigan was already busy with a spell of freezing and Sten had managed to distract the two werewolf 'bodyguards' before Kalamari realised that she was probably meant to be joining in the fight.

"Damn it, I _like_ werewolves," she muttered as she got out her trusty battleaxe.

Xox

"Why did you have to leap in and attack them?" said Kalamari furiously to Cel after the three werewolves had bounded away. She'd had to physically restrain Cel from running after them or throwing one of her weapons into the retreating Swiftrunner's back. "We were talking! I was meant to stop you from killing anyone else! They didn't even attack us first!"

"They attacked the Dalish! They deserved to die!" Cel retorted before breaking down into a coughing fit.

"Well, violence is not the only solution, I'm sure of it!" said Kalamari.

"I beg to differ," said Morrigan. "I doubt that your idea of living in peace with rainbows and fat rabbits is the correct alternative."

"You two are as insane as each other," said Kalamari, glaring at both other women.

"I am hardly _insane_," said Morrigan, giving Cel a look of disgust. "If anyone is insane, surely it would be yourself."

"But you are both just as equally and stupidly bloodthirsty! It's idiotic! We're Grey Wardens, not common murderers! How in Andraste's fluffy smallclothes are we meant to show Loghain that we're better than him if we don't act like it?"

"That is why I suggested going straight for the man himself, instead of the useless wandering in this forest," said Morrigan. "Let us go the direct route."

"Bob already said that that was a stupid idea! I don't know what your mother taught you in that swamp or what happened to you in your Dalish clan, but... grarghhgh. Why did_ I_ get stuck with all the deranged murderers, anyway?" moaned Kalamari.

"We should move on," said Sten, looking utterly bored by Kalamari's ranting.

Xox

"It rhymes!" said Kalamari, open-mouthed.

"Allow me a moment to welcome thee. I am called the Grand Oak, sometimes the Elder Tree. And unless thou thinkst it far too soon, might I ask of thee a boon?" said the talking tree.

"Does _everything_ talk in this place?" said Morrigan, unimpressed.

"Cel, don't attack it," said Kalamari, anticipating the other elf's movements. "What boon? How can I help you?"

"Of course she would ask to _help_," Morrigan said. Sten sighed.

"I have but one acorn: my child, my seed. It has been stolen, a vile deed. I cannot leave, for I am bound, and thus I beg the thief be found."

"Okay," said Kalamari. "Of course I'll help you!"

Xox

"This is such a cool place," said Kalamari to Cel as they tramped through the forest. "I'm not usually a big fan of all this nature stuff, but these talking werewolves and talking poet-trees... did your clan ever come through here?" She was still firmly in the belief that if she showered Cel with enough niceness and didn't dwell too much on the whole 'insane murderer' thing (and besides, she herself had done her fair share of killing...), she would eventually say something more than "Let's kill them," or "Ehehehehe!"

Still, although she thought that she had made some progress considering Cel's current lack of violent reaction to her friendly attentions, it hadn't happened yet. Kalamari was still holding out for an answer when she tripped over a tree stump and landed hard on the ground.

"Oh dear, oh dear! Not a werewolf and not a spirit, even, what are the woods coming to?" said a strange voice.

"Um, hello there?" said Kalamari, picking herself up and dusting off her armour. There was an old man standing in front of them; she was quite sure he had not there a moment ago, however.

"Questions, questions, always questions! They say it was questions that made me mad; will it do the same for you?" said the old man.

"Be cautious. This is no ordinary madman. He has magic... I can sense it. Powerful magic," said Morrigan.

"Okay... um. Questions?" Magic always made Kalamari a little nervous, and it wasn't just because the witch standing next to her was a sociopath with no fashion sense.

"Ask a question and you'll get a question, but give an answer and you'll receive the same! Oh, I do so love to trade!"

"Trade? Do you... want to trade?" said Kalamari uncertainly.

"Let's see... I'll trade you an acorn, a helmet I found, or a book I finished reading years ago. Provided you have something interesting in return," said the mad mage.

"The acorn! You have the Grand Oak's acorn? Can I trade for that?"

"Oho! And what do you have to trade for the acorn?"

"Um," said Kalamari, searching inside her backpack. "I have way too much elfroot."

"Elfroot? Elfroot is everywhere! No, no, I don't want that."

"How about... some toilet paper?" said Kalamari, still rummaging inside the pack. "Does anyone else have anything?" The others stared at her blankly.

"Toilet paper?" said Cel.

"Hey, you spoke!" said Kalamari, beaming so widely that Sten had to take a step back. She patted Cel on the back. "And what? I like to be hygienic. I think I may have taken a little too much, though..."

"Better than using leaves!" said the old mage. "Give me those. Good, good. Here it is, the acorn."

"Thank you." She handed over a few squashed rolls and put the acorn carefully into a pocket.

Xox

"Here you go, Morrigan, a nice oak staff," said Kalamari as she handed over the oak branch to her. That rhyming tree was just brilliant, she thought. "Hey, what's that?"

"'Tis a gravestone," said Morrigan, weighing the staff. "And one bound with old magic, too. I advise you not to disturb it."

"It is too late," said Sten, frowning. Kalamari had accidentally bumped the stone slab with the pommel of her battleaxe as she turned to go, and a eerie cold wind was already rushing around them. She cursed.

It had to be said that Kalamari was not born to be a warrior. She honestly would not have minded being a nice normal elven servant in any old Arl's mansion, washing dishes and cleaning floors. In fact, given her slight obsession with all things clean and shiny, she probably would be found washing dishes and cleaning floors even if she _was_ the Arl of the mansion. Or something. The point was, even though she did have more talent than most in swinging crazily large axes into undead revenants, it was not exactly something she enjoyed. It was all much too messy and violent, really. She sighed heavily and cursed again as she lifted her weapon and got ready to attack once more.

Cel, on the other hand, was enjoying this battle very much. She thought that one of the skeletons might have pulled out some of her pale brown hair and maybe given her a slight head wound since there was blood dripping into one of her eyes, and there might have been a couple of arrows stuck between her ribs from that corpse of an archer over there, but all in all it was exhilarating fun. The fact that Morrigan and Sten had just passed out from blood loss just meant she had more things to kill by herself. Even so, being surrounded by three skeletons and a revenant all trying to poke you with sharp objects was getting a little life-threatening. Time to make an exit.

"Get their attention!" she hissed to Kalamari as she ran past.

"Huh?" said Kalamari, not really registering the unfamiliar voice. "Oh! I mean, hey you! Ugly skeleton things! You, um, suck!"

The four corpses turned round as one and immediately started hitting her with the aforementioned sharp objects.

"Ow," said Kalamari as she decapitated the three smaller corpses with a nice clean swing of her battleaxe. "Cel? I got their attention...?"

There was a sickeningly crunch as the other elf leapt up and jabbed her dagger up into the revenant's skull, twisted it around and snapped it clean off its withered neck. The corpse's body twisted around to slam the edge of the shield into Cel's shoulder, but she seemed not to notice. Quite a feat. Both bodies crashed to the ground, but only Cel stood up again.

"I believe my skull has been cracked," said Sten, getting up.

"Owwwww," groaned Kalamari. She sat down on a piece of fallen masonry. "How can you be so calm about that owwwwww."

"Do not disturb the gravestone, I said!" said Morrigan, limping on a broken leg. "Was there something terribly hard about that sentence that you couldn't understand?"

"Sorry," muttered Kalamari in between her anguished groans of pain. "I think I broke half my ribs..."

Cel, who still had three arrows sticking out of her left lung and a veritable river of her own blood running down her, walked up to her and deposited a heavy silverite helmet onto her lap. Kalamari winced.

"From the demon," Cel said by way of explanation.

"It's lovely that you're speaking, but it's... kinda... heavy," said Kalamari, attempting to smile warmly at her and hold it up at the same time.

"Perhaps you should try it on," said Morrigan in between casting her healing spells. "It seems a waste to leave our hard-won prize behind."

"It came from a rotting demon-possessed corpse!" said Kalamari, grimacing. "I don't think I want to. I bet it smells terrible in there."

"I will take it," said Sten.

"Oh good." She handed it over. "Do... you want to wipe it out with toilet paper first?"

**to be continued...**

_A/N: Next up, the Circle Tower. I'm currently planning out the pairings (LOL CAN YOU GUESS THEM) as well as wondering what the hell I'm going to do with the Landsmeet once I get there, because every origin wants a different result. :O_


	6. In which the Circle Tower is cleansed

**Part VI  
**_We follow the final group of adventurers through their journey in the Circle Tower and the Fade (or not, as the case may be)._

**Xox**

"Where are we going?" wondered Billybob out loud.

"Why are you both following _me_?" wondered Hosomaki out loud.

"The mages' tower," replied Leliana (not wondering, but still out loud). "We're following you because you're a mage, so I'm sure you know where we're going?"

"I... do? Really? I'm just following the path..."

"We just passed a sign saying, "Circle Tower this way" so let's hope this is the right way," Billybob said.

They trudged on in silence.

"Are you sure this is the right way?" said Hosomaki after some time.

"Don't ask me," said Billybob, shrugging. "I'm not good with maps."

"Is that the lake ahead?" said Leliana, shielding her eyes from the sun and pointing to something flat and blue in the distance. "I can't see any tower, but it does look foggy there."

"If you say so..." said Hosomaki. The thing was, Hosomaki had been taken to the Tower at a very young age and his journey with (the fake) Duncan had been the only time since that he had ventured out of it. Seeing as that journey had been undertaken while his mind was still reeling from the shock of Jowan's blood magic, he couldn't really remember much of it.

"I think it is!" said Leliana after another silence. "Look, there it is. Can you see it?"

"Yeah," said Billybob. Since the lake was so close that it was lapping at his feet, it was hard to miss.

"There's a ferryman somewhere here," said Hosomaki, screwing up his face in concentration. "If I remember correctly..."

Xox

"That redhead there at the back... she doesn't need to go to the tower, does she?" said the templar.

"What, Hosomaki?" said Billybob, looking around for his two red-headed companions. "He... _is_ a he, aren't you?"

"I think he means me," said Leliana.

"But I wouldn't mind, really," said Hosomaki, smiling slightly creepily.

"The elf's hair _is_ redder- you what?" said Billybob. He hadn't really expected _that_ from the elf, although to be fair he was a mage. And an elf. Go figure.

"I meant the girl," said the templar, backing away from Hosomaki. "Because it gets a little lonely out here sometimes... and you know, you could just leave her with me-"

"What? Er... no. I'm sorry, I'm... a poetess! And I am not interested in anything you have to offer," said Leliana.

"That's a no," said Billybob helpfully.

"I've never met a poetess... The other men sometimes tell stories about them... when the knight-commander isn't around, of course," the templar said, looking dreamily into the distance.

"Stories? What kind of stories?" said Hosomaki eagerly.

"You know... _stories_... like how they s-"

"Alright, that's enough," interrupted Billybob. "I don't want to know. You are obviously a very, um, _desperate_ ferryman and why don't you just ask her for her stories when, I don't know, you're ferrying us across?"

"The stories sheltered templars tell will pale in comparison to mine. Would you like to hear my tales of debauchery and excess?" said Leliana.

"I do!" said Hosomaki.

"Ye...yes?" said the templar.

Xox

"But this was meant to be just a straightforward trip!" wailed Hosomaki upon being told of the demon situation. "What do you mean, all my friends have been turned into abominations?"

"Yeah, that's why they put us indecisive non-leader types in this leftover group!" said Billybob.

"Perhaps we could help you?" said Leliana. "Can we possibly do anything for these mages? Or for you?"

"Are you _sure_ that they're all abominations?" said Hosomaki, looking close to tears. "Even... Amell?"

"No one could have survived those monstrous creatures. It is too painful to hope for survivors and find... nothing," said the Knight-Commander.

"Have you looked? Are you sure there are none left?" Leliana said, patting Hosomaki in a comforting manner and wondering who Amell could be.

"Maybe we could deal with them," Billybob said, tapping the collection of weapons at his belt. "Us Grey Wardens are pretty good at the 'killing monsters' part."

"You must face and slaughter the abominations to get to the bottom of this. Are you sure you can handle them?" said the templar doubtfully. He looked them over again. None of this mismatched group claiming to be Grey Wardens looked particularly impressive.

"Yeah, why not?" said Billybob.

"You have nothing to lose," Leliana said. "Even so, I assure you that my companions and I are more than a match for any monster!"

"I assure you, an abomination is a force to be reckoned with, and you will face more than one," the Knight-Commander said, still looking very doubtful.

"Taking down monsters is what I do best," Billybob said.

"A word of caution... once you cross that threshold, there is no turning back. The great doors must remain barred. I will open them for no one until I have proof that it is safe."

"No turning back?" Hosomaki said blankly.

"You're locking us in?" said Leliana.

"Locked in with a tower full of demons. It could be fun," Billybob said, and he might have meant it.

"No turning back?" said Hosomaki again. He seemed to be stuck on a loop.

Xox

"This was my bed!" said Hosomaki, running to one of the bunks. "Oh, the memories..."

"We probably shouldn't ask," Billybob said to Leliana, who nodded.

"And this was my footlocker," Hosomaki said. He crouched down and inspected it. "I hadn't moved my things to my new quarters, and I had sealed my locker with good magic so the templars couldn't get at it, so let's see-"

There was a flash of light, and other two stepped back holding their hands to their eyes. When the afterimage cleared, they saw Hosomaki stuffing various potions and papers into his backpack.

"What did you have in there?" Leliana asked curiously.

"Lyrium, some spare robes, a meat pie, a few love letters... the usual," Hosomaki said. "I think the pie has gone off, though."

"That explains that smell," Billybob said.

"Love letters?" said Leliana with interest.

Hosomaki nodded. "It was an emotional time for me..."

"Have you ever _not_ been going through an emotional time?" Billybob said.

The mage pouted. "That's just mean!"

Xox

"Wynne!" cried Hosomaki in delight.

"Look out for the demon!" Leliana shouted behind him.

"Eek!" said Hosomaki, skidding to a halt. The demon was dealt with before any of them could really register what was happening; Billybob had only just pulled his weapons off his back in anticipation of a good fight when the demon seemed to melt through the floor. The danger over, all the mages in the room turned to look at the newcomers as one.

"You? You've returned to the tower? Why did the templars let you through? Are you here to warn us?" said the old woman that Hosomaki was now attempting to happily hug.

"Warn you? About what?" said Hosomaki.

"Did the templars not say that they planned to destroy us? Surely they would not have opened the doors otherwise?"

"Oh," said Hosomaki, realisation dawning upon him. "He did say something about a Rite of something or other..."

"What did you _think_ the Rite of Annulment was?" Billybob said.

"I don't know – I wasn't really listening," Hosomaki said. "It was not very interesting, so I may have skipped that conversation and fast-forwarded to the quest."

"Skipped?" Billybob said. "Fast-forwarded? Quest?"

"Have you been protecting these children?" said Leliana to the Circle mage.

"I tried to help the children get out, but the doors were locked... no one responded when I called for help. What else was I supposed to do?" said the mage.

"I can't believe they locked everyone into this demon-filled tower," said Hosomaki. The real situation was finally beginning to sink in.

"We're going to stop them," said Billybob, shrugging. "Should we get on with the monster-killing part, now?"

"I erected a barrier over the door leading to the rest of the tower, so nothing from inside could attack the children. You will not be able to enter the tower as long as the barrier holds, but I will dispel it if you join with me to save this Circle," said the mage, getting straight to the point.

"The more the merrier," Billybob said.

"I'm so glad you're coming," said Hosomaki, smiling broadly. "Everyone, this is Wynne. Wynne, this is Billybob and Leliana."

"An elf, a dwarf and a human," said Billybob, gesturing at their trio. "We're unstoppable."

Xox

"Are you sure that everyone rushing headlong into the fray is the best course of action?" asked Wynne as she set a few more of Leliana's broken bones. "Perhaps a good stratagem for fighting these abominations would be of use here."

"I do have to admit that we're not really working well as a team..." said Leliana, wincing between words.

"Stratagem? Team? What's wrong with rushing headlong? It's more fun that way," said Billybob.

"For a start, Hosomaki has passed out nine times in the last half hour," said Wynne.

"But I'm fine now," said Hosomaki, waving his arms around to show just how fine he was. "So... what's wrong with rushing in?"

"Yeah, why do we always have to do all these tactics and commands anyway? It's just like listening to that Aeducan girl all over again," said Billybob.

"I am merely advising you," said Wynne. "We will be much more efficient if we use some teamwork..."

"It takes the fun right out of battling," grumbled Billybob. Hosomaki nodded in agreement.

"If you don't mind me asking, who is the leader here?" Wynne said.

"We have a leader?" Billybob said.

"It's... not something that's been quite decided," said Leliana.

"Does it really matter?" Hosomaki said.

Xox

Even though the issue of leadership and the existence of tactics had not been resolved, the journey through the demon-ravaged tower was not particularly eventful. Still, Hosomaki insisted on picking up every single scrap of paper and searching every single corpse, wardrobe and pile of filth that they came across, much to the others' exasperation.

"Did you really have to stick your hands into that muck?" said Billybob. "Even I can smell it, and I live in Dust Town."

"Billybob does have a point; it smells horrible," said Leliana, standing well back and being careful not to breathe in through her nose.

"But what if I miss something important?" said Hosomaki, getting out his journal and scanning the entries. "I need to make sure we cover everything! Look, there's a blank space here – we need to find this missing Codex entry!"

"You're... scrapbooking?" said Billybob.

"I remember; Hosomaki always used to write down every detail of his day, so he wouldn't forget anything in the future," said Wynne. "Are you still keeping that diary?"

"This is no ordinary diary," Hosomaki said stubbornly. "It shows all the quests we have to do, and all the... oh well, never mind. I don't think you would understand anyway."

"Let's just get on with the killing business," Billybob said.

Xox

"There's a strange black vial here," said Hosomaki after a lengthy inspection of a toppled statue. "Should I try to get it out?"

"We couldn't just get a move on and kill a load of demons, could we?" said Billybob, yawning. He needed some action as soon as possible. The elf just _had_ to dawdle, didn't he?

"I don't think we should risk it," said Leliana, getting up and looking over his shoulder. "Perhaps we should continue and find a way to help the mages?"

"Leliana may be right. The longer we wait, the more mages may be put in danger upstairs," Wynne said.

"But I need to know what will happen if I take that option! We can't just leave without exploring all the possibilities!" said Hosomaki.

"We will have time lat-" Wynne started. She was interrupted by a burst of blue flame and the sudden unexpected appearance of a supernaturally large and animated corpse in front of them.

"Sorry!" shouted Hosomaki above the confused panic that followed. "I didn't know it would do that!"

"Idiot elf," muttered Billybob, quickly getting his weapons ready.

"Help!" shouted Leliana as the _thing_ advanced on her. "Someone, help!"

"We have to do something!" Hosomaki cried.

"Oh, you think so?" yelled Billybob. He jumped up on top of the statue and managed to cut deep into the thing's back – it screeched and rounded on him.

"Thank you," said Leliana.

"No problem," said Billybob, rapidly being trounced by the undead corpse.

"Shall I just keep firing?" Leliana said. She looked around for advice. None was forthcoming.

"What spell shall I use there's so much choice what shall I do?" Hosomaki said.

"I don't know, just kill it!" Billybob groaned.

"This has gone too far!" announced Wynne. "Billybob, keep its attention on you! Hosomaki, do remember that freezing spell..."

There was an "unf" and Billybob dropped to the floor, unconscious.

"We're all going to die!" squealed Hosomaki. He ran in circles away from the _thing _– it looked at him for a moment and swept away towards Leliana.

"Don't be silly, Hosomaki," said Wynne, reviving the dwarf. "Go and distract it again!"

"I what?" said Billybob, rubbing his head and wondering where he was. This was apparently enough of a distraction for the monster, as it abruptly turned away from Leliana and started to clobber Billybob again.

"Phew," said Hosomaki. "Wynne, help help what do I do now? I hate fighting revenants!"

"You're fought one before?" said Leliana in between shots.

"I... It feels like it?" said Hosomaki, screwing up his face trying to recall that memory. "I..."

"Hosomaki! Concentrate and freeze it!" shouted Wynne.

Xox

It was a hard battle, and Billybob passed out twice more before the corpse was finally laid to rest. (One of those had been due to Hosomaki misfiring and freezing the dwarf into a solid chunk of ice instead of the walking corpse; Hosomaki tried not to draw too much attention to that fact.)

"That's what battles are all about!" enthused Billybob once his various broken bones had been patched up. "Doesn't matter how badly we get beaten up so long as we hand it to those monsters too!"

Wynne sighed. So far, the so-called legends of the Grey Wardens had failed to impress her.

"So maybe you should be our leader," said Hosomaki to her.

"Perhaps that would be best," Wynne said, feeling at once honoured by the suggestion and disappointed by the lack of Grey Warden leadership skill.

"Alright. I'm alright now," Billybob said. He stretched and tested out all his limbs.

"Shall we move on?" Leliana said.

"Wait wait, I need to put this into my journal..." Hosomaki said, stuffing a small scrap of paper into the file. "Look! A new Codex entry!"

The others stared at him, a little bemused.

Xox

"Oh, look. Visitors. I'd entertain you but... too much effort involved," said the abomination in front of them.

"Can we rush in and kill him now?" said Billybob to Wynne.

"But why?" the abomination said, overhearing his words. "Aren't you tired of all the violence in this world? I know I am. Wouldn't you like to just lay down and... forget about all this? Leave it all behind?"

"Where's the exciting battling fun in that?" Billybob said, looking confused. "But... oh, sleepy. Beds are good too..."

"Billybob?" Leliana said. "My... eyes..."

There was a thump as Hosomaki hit the ground, apparently fast asleep.

"Resist. You must resist, else we are all lost..." Wynne said rather belatedly.

"Trying..." said Billybob, but it was too late.

Xox

Hosomaki, being a mage, was well used to the Fade. It did not take long for him to realise where he was. Billybob, on the other hand, was a dwarf and so had had no previous experience whatsoever with the world beyond the Veil.

"Billybob! Where are Wynne and Leliana?" Hosomaki said. Billybob jumped. He hadn't noticed the elf next to him.

"I dunno," he said. "Where... what... where are we?"

"The Fade," said Hosomaki as if it were completely obvious. "That demon must have trapped us here. Oh well, let's see if those spirits over there have anything to say about this."

"The... Fade?" said Billybob, looking around himself fearfully. "Why... what? How?"

"The demon," said Hosomaki patiently. "Come on, let's go."

"Demon?" said Billybob.

Xox

A few minutes and a fake Duncan later, Billybob was almost getting used to this Fade place. He could run and fight just as he could back in the real world, and that was all that really mattered. The strange blurriness in his vision was the most annoying part of this Fade.

"I think I've seen enough Duncans to last me a lifetime," he grumbled, looking down at the body of the latest imposter Duncan.

"I wonder if that werewolf spirit is around?" said Hosomaki thoughtfully.

"No more spirits," said Billybob. "We need to just get out of here."

There was a soft glow from the corner of his eye, and he turned round to see a basin-like pedestal rising out of the ground. Hosomaki ran towards it and inspected it carefully.

"It looks like a travel device," he called. "Would you like to have a look?"

"Don't touch it, elf-" said Billybob, and then he opened his eyes to find himself in a completely new part of the Fade. "I said, don't touch it!"

"Sorry," mumbled Hosomaki.

Xox

"I BLOODY WELL SODDING HATE THIS PLACE," shouted Billybob a day later to no-one in particular.

"Same here..." said Hosomaki. "It was all very well when I could wake up, and the desire demons were fun to be with once you had the intimidation factor down, but-"

"JUST GET US OUT OF HERE NOW!"

"I'm trying, I'm trying!" said Hosomaki, making 'calm down' motions with his hands.

"Aha!" said a vaguely familiar voice. There was a soft flash of light and a triumphant fanfare in the background. The next moment, an abnormally large and armoured hurlock had materialised in front of them.

"Gyaaagrghhh!" cried Billybob, leaping in to attack. Hosomaki experienced a brief moment of déjà vu as Billybob was lifted into the air by a gauntleted hand and left to struggle helplessly.

"Hello again," said Hosomaki. "Would you care to help us out?"

Xox

"Sorry about the whole hurlock thing again," said the ogre-sized hurlock after exchanging a few pleasantries with Hosomaki. "I was just possessing a hurlock vanguard to play through the battle of Denerim and kill Leliana, you see. Good old hack and slash fun!"

"You killed Leliana?" Billybob said, still suspended and kicking.

"Only in an alternate universe," explained the hurlock. "Now, luckily for you, I recently installed a mod to skip this whole Fade portion! Isn't that great? So off you go, poof!"

There was indeed a 'poof', and when Hosomaki and Billybob opened their eyes again they found themselves back in the Circle Tower with a dead abomination on the floor.

"What just happened?" said Billybob.

"I... did not understand some of what he said," Hosomaki replied, "but at least we're out of the Fade."

"Yeah, that's the main thing."

"Maker be praised!" said Wynne, heaving herself off the floor. "I did not manage to break out of my own dream – I suppose one of you did, however? Thank you."

"I, we, um... sort of," said Billybob. He moved over to revive Leliana.

"In any case, we must move quickly to confront Uldred," Wynne said.

Xox

"Dragons!" said Billybob in surprise. "What are baby dragons doing in your tower?"

"I thought dragons had been assumed extinct! This is a truly amazing find," Leliana said. She crouched down and examined a dragonling's body in awe.

"It might be more amazing if we hadn't just massacred them all," Billybob said. "Hey, how many floors does your tower have?"

"This is the last," Wynne said. "Uldred is most likely in the Harrowing Chamber, up the next flight of stairs."

"Let's go and meet him then," said Hosomaki determinedly.

Xox

"This trick again? I know what you are. It won't work. I will stay strong..." said the templar.

"Eh?" said Hosomaki. "I remember you! Cullen?"

The templar inside the glowing prison circle ignored him and continued muttering under his breath.

"The boy is exhausted. And this cage... I've never seen anything like it," said Wynne.

"Why is he the only one trapped here?" said Leliana.

"-will stay strong, for my sake... for theirs..." continued the templar.

"Cullen? Hello?" Hosomaki said, tapping the invisible walls of the cell.

"Filthy blood mages... getting in my head... I will not break... I'd rather die."

"_Cullen_?"

"Silence... I'll not listen to anything you say. Now begone!"

"We're still here," Billybob said after a second of confused silence to help the templar along.

"Still here? But that's always worked before. I close my eyes, but you are still here when I open them."

"It might be because we _are_ still here," Billybob said.

"He must be delirious from torture," Leliana said, concern showing in her voice. "I wonder how long he's been trapped here?"

"Don't blame me for being cautious," the trapped templar said, looking at them carefully. "The voices... the images... so real... Did Greagoir send you? How... how did you get here? Who are you?"

"Don't you remember me? I'm Hosomaki. The Grey Wardens are trying to help."

"Help? How can you help now? It's too late... you must end it now! Destroy all of them... Kill Uldred. Kill them all."

"Where is Irving? Surely some must still live?" Wynne said.

"They are in the Harrowing Chamber. The sounds coming out from there... oh, Maker... He's doing something to them, I can feel it. Something horrible..."

"We must press on then," Leliana said. "Is there nothing we can do for this boy?"

"You can't save them. You don't know what they've become," the templar said.

"Well, we're going to try," Hosomaki said, his jaw set.

"No... you don't know what they've become!" said the templar.

"You just said that," Billybob told him. Wynne and the templar both glared at him.

"We'll come back for you later," Leliana said. "We should finish off this Uldred as soon as we can..."

"But- they've been surrounded by filthy blood mages, whose wicked fingers snake into your mind and corrupt your thoughts. You have to destroy them all to be free of this evil!"

"What? You want to kill all the mages?" Leliana said.

"It's the only solution!" insisted the templar.

"This is madness!" Wynne said. "They are not lost yet, and this murderous idea of yours is just adding to the bloodshed!"

"Surely _some_ must still be fighting?" said Leliana worriedly.

"Let's go and look," Hosomaki said, tugging on Leliana's arm. "You said so yourself."

"Bye, Cullen," Billybob said.

Xox

"Ah... look what we have here. An intruder. I bid you welcome. Care to join in our... revels?" said the mage.

"Revels?" Hosomaki said.

"He means, let's just kill him," Billybob said. Without further ado, he unsheathed his weapons and leapt at the mage, who was presumably this Uldred mage they had heard about. He wasn't expecting the small man to suddenly explode into a towering hulk of a demon, and he was promptly knocked to the floor by a massive clawed fist. He would have sworn, but all the breath had been punched out of his body.

"Aim for the abominations first!" called Wynne, trying to keep their group together.

"Which one?" said Hosomaki, looking around in bewilderment.

"The smaller one!" shouted Leliana, following the direction of Wynne's bolts.

"There are three of them!" Hosomaki replied, still looking left and right in confusion.

"Just get on with it, mage!" grunted Billybob, hauling himself off the floor and launching himself directly at the nearest abomination. Unfortunately, he was knocked off his feet again by another swing of Uldred's fists.

"Erk!" said Hosomaki sympathetically, and froze the abominations around them. An arrow from Leliana zipped past his face and shattered one of them.

"Now, the next one!" Wynne called.

"Which one?" said Hosomaki.

It took a few more exasperated shouts from Wynne and a few more batterings of Billybob before the three smaller abominations were dealt with completely, but at least there was only one angry demon facing them now.

"Get him off me!" yelled Billybob between thumps. While Wynne's healing might be keeping him alive well enough, it didn't do much to lessen the pain of each blow...

Xox

The thing with battles was that however exciting and exhilarating it was during the fight, there was never very much to say about it afterwards. Billybob would have liked to give the Knight-Commander a fully action-packed and meticulously detailed account of their defeat of a gargantuan pride demon, but when it came to it he found that he really couldn't think of the words. The only thing he really remembered was how many times the demon had punched him, which wasn't really something that emphasised his immense battle skills. He was still thinking how best to phrase the sentence, "The demon knocked me out and tripped over my unconscious body and that's how I killed it," when he realised that they were now walking out of the Circle Tower.

Oh well. There were always the other Grey Wardens to boast to later.

**to be continued...**

_A/N: Obviously Hosomaki gets these metagaming insights because he is a mage connected to the Fade and therefore with the werewolf/hurlock spirit aka me. Nod nod. :) I didn't really want to put him/her/it back in, but I really do hate the Fade (and Leliana)... ah well, I don't know about the rest of you, but I found Darkspawn Chronicles insanely fun. _

_By the way, Cel's real name has been officially removed from the first chapter because I've changed the character I based her on. If that makes sense? She was originally Mohita, a friend's intended-to-be-evil character, but my friend changed her mind about just how insane she wanted Mohita to be. So she's now SECRETNAME, my new Mahariel Warden. Alistair's approval is currently at -51, and that's without ever insulting him in a conversation._

_AJ - I can't reply in a PM since you weren't signed in, but I was going to say that I didn't actually realise that all the insane murders (Cel, Morrigan, sorta Sten) were in the same group. Haha. I did try to sort them out by OC/in-game companions and by class, but that's as far as that goes... if that group was the Insane Murderer group, this group is the Really Boring Non-Personality group._


	7. In which Redcliffe castle is saved

_A/N: I've never been good with updates, and I'm sorry for how long this has taken. I've been held up with Life Changing Exams, many celebratory parties, a trip to Sweden, a few other trips, etc, not to mention good ol' writer's block. So I apologise again for the massive delay, and also for the 'ehh, this ain't funny at all' that may result from so much writer's block._

**Part VII  
**_Redcliffe is saved (again), and this group go through their revenant-slaying rite of passage._

**Xox  
**

"Odd how quiet the castle looks from here. You would think there was nobody inside at all," Teagan said, staring out at the wide vista from beside the windmill. "But I shouldn't delay things further. I had a plan... to enter the castle after the village was secure."

"And what is this plan, pray tell?" said Tim, looking rather bored by the whole affair.

"I have a-" Teagan started, but he was interrupted by the appearance of a clearly terrified blonde woman tripping over herself in her haste to reach them.

"Teagan! Thank the Maker you yet live!" cried the woman, her accent thick and almost completely incomprehensible to Tim's ears, who was finding it already hard enough to deal with the usual Feredan accent.

"Isolde! You're alive! How did you...? What has happened?" said Teagan, starting.

"Bah," muttered SacredBob under his breath. He had never really warmed up to Eamon's Orlesian wife, owing to past experiences in various family gatherings.

Alistair glanced sideways at him. "Not a fan of touching reunions?"

"Well, there was that one time in my father's birthday party when she... actually, you know what, never mind."

"No wait, what happened?"

"... a long and rather embarrassing story which is strictly for parties only."

"Now I _really_ want to know."

"Well, if you _really_ want to know..."

"Well... I do," said Alistair, crossing his arms. "What happened?"

"So it started a couple of Satinalias ago when me and FlowerPower were just getting a keg of ale out of the winter storage house. I was walking along, minding my own business, with FlowerPower rolling the barrel in front of us, when a large pile of snow fell on top of me. Oh wait, did I mention the rabid squirrel? No... oh yeah, that comes later. With the smelly cheese barrels. Next thing I knew-"

"And how do I know that this isn't one big ambush?" Tim loudly interjected into the middle of both conversations around her. Bob and Alistair jumped.

"I... I beg your pardon! That's a rather impertinent accusation!" said Isolde, at the same time as Bob said, "I was just getting to the potato salad ice cream!"

"Impertinent? But not false?" Tim said, stepping up to the woman in a scarily intimidating manner.

"I- what are you im-"

"Er, Tim," said Bob, tapping her on the shoulder. "I doubt Lady Isolde wants to kill her brother-in-law. Well, unless he likes cheese with his potato salad..."

"You think so, do you?" said Tim, raising an eyebrow. Obviously these people had never visited the Orzammar nobility.

"Yes, I do," said Bob, looking a bit confused.

"Isolde, can you excuse us for a moment? We must confer in private before I return to the castle with you," Teagan said.

"Are you actually intending to go through with this Isolde's idea?" Tim said once they were out of Isolde's earshot.

"I cannot let Isolde return alone. Perhaps I can help Connor or Eamon. Perhaps this is really a trap, but this is my family. I must try," Teagan told her.

She shrugged. "I will not be accountable for your death, in any case. Or hers."

"Er, hello?" said Bob. "What about us? You don't expect us just to stand here and let you get eaten by whatever evil is up there, do you?"

"I have a plan," Teagan said. "Take my signet ring; it will unlock a secret passage into the castle through the windmill. That way, you will have a chance of finding my brother while I distract whatever being is inside. What do you say?"

"We have to sneak inside an evil castle filled with undead and possibly a big boss Evil Monster and back again while carrying the dying Arl Eamon?" said Bob.

"That is the gist of it, yes," Teagan said.

"This is hardly a plan at all," muttered Tim. "Is there really no other option?"

"Why don't you think of something then?" Bob snapped. "But... yeah, is there really no other option?"

Xox

"Oh dear Maker, I do declare that I hate zombies," SacredBob muttered as another withered head was sent flying. FlowerPower whined mournfully.

"We waste time fighting these demons when our job concerns the darkspawn," said Tim distractedly.

"We came here to get Arl Eamon's help," Alistair said. "So it _does_ concern the darkspawn, being here."

Tim looked at him and paused before speaking. "I... suppose you are right. The less demons, the better, in any case."

"Did you just say that you 'suppose Alistair is right'?" Bob said incredulously. "I've never ever heard you say that _I'm_ right. Oh, life is so unfair."

"Be quiet and get over yourself," said Tim. "Oh look, a prisoner. Who are you?"

"Jowan, uh, m'lady-" said the prisoner, nervously backing away from her glare.

"And what do you know of this situation?" she interrupted.

"It wasn't me!" the prisoner squeaked. "I know what they're saying about me, but it isn't true!"

"You- what?" said Bob. Tim turned her glare on him for a split-second, thought better of telling him to shut up, and turned back to the prisoner again.

"Excuse me?" she said coldly.

"I don't know anything about summoning demons, I swear. I know... I know I started it all, poisoning Arl Eamon, but-"

"You poisoned Eamon?" said Bob. "What?"

"Let me explain! I was going to be executed, most probably... I'm a malificar, a blood mage, and-"

"You're a _blood mage_?" said Bob.

"Yes, yes, but- oh, never mind, you won't understand. You see, in my cell at Denerim, Teyrn Loghain told me of a way to redeem myself – and I knew him from all those portraits, and I thought I was doing the right thing!"

"I should have known Loghain was behind all this," muttered Alistair.

"I'm sure you were," said Tim, smiling dangerously. Bob shivered involuntarily. "And what of the demons?"

"I don't know," Jowan said miserably. "After the Arl... got sick, the demon came, and started creating its army."

"Wait a moment," said Alistair. "How did a maleficar like you get in here, anyway?"

"An excellent point," Tim said. "Please do explain."

"Lady Isolde wanted me to tutor her son, Connor," said Jowan. "He was showing... signs, and she feared the templars would take him."

"Connor, a mage?" said Alistair and Bob at the same time. Bob grinned and held up a hand. After a momentary look of confusion, Alistair high-fived it. Tim ignored them resolutely.

"Well," she said. "Let us suppose we believe your story for now. I'm sure someone will be down soon enough to see to your execution. Alistair, SacredBob, we must leave."

"Wait!" said the mage behind the bars. "I can help – if you let me out, I'll help you!"

"My gosh," Bob said. "That was such an honest and selfless call for help that I am just speechless!"

"No, I swear," said the mage. "I need to make up for what I've done, and I know that I can help those still trapped in this place..."

"You're a blood mage! A blood mage who's poisoned the Arl!" said Alistair incredulously.

"This is a waste of time," announced Tim. "You're staying. We're leaving."

"Good call," said Bob.

"Be quiet."

Xox

"Valena?" said Alistair. "Are you the blacksmith's daughter? Tim, he asked us to find her!"

"Did he now," said Tim, looking back at the shaking girl. "Well, what are you waiting for? Get out of here."

"My father asked you to help me? I must get back to him! But... the monsters..."

"Go out through the back," said SacredBob. "We cleaned out the cellars. But don't let the mage out."

The girl nodded, wiping her face with a sleeve. "Thank you, sers. I know this castle; I'll find my way." She sniffed one last time and set off running.

"Did we really say that we'd help her?" said Tim after she had disappeared down the corridor.

"Considering that it was you who apparently said so, I was just wondering the same thing," Bob said.

Xox

"What in Andraste's nether regions is that?" said Bob. "It's like... Walking Corpse Supreme With Extra Creepiness!"

"A revenant!" said Alistair, eyes wide. "They were telling stories of these back in the Chantry..."

"Stop standing here like dimwits and get it, you nugbrains!" said Tim. She prodded them both hard in the back with dagger pommels. FlowerPower was already running towards the animated corpse waving a scarily large sword and shield in its skeletal hands. "I'll get the knights." There was a puff of smoke, and she disappeared.

"Knights? What knights?" said SacredBob, stumbling forwards. "And how does she even _do_ that invisible smokey thing?"

"She might be onto something," said Alistair, following her shadow to the castle gate. A moment later, they had both collided with the foul-smelling revenant's shield and were lying dazed on the ground with a violent nausea in their stomachs.

"Wha... how?" said Bob, spitting out blood. "Knights? Ow!" The revenant had just brought down its sword hard onto his shield, which he had only just moved in time to cover his face. His wrist felt sprained.

"Get up!" shouted Tim angrily. Alistair stood up just in time to see her with a small group of Knights In Shining Armour heading straight for them – there was a flash of a dagger and an acrid smell in the air, and the revenant's arms dropped, stunned.

"Get that idiot up before the poison wears off!" Tim said; Alistair quickly complied.

SacredBob could hear Tim shouting various commands to the knights and presumably himself, but understanding them was another matter. As his brain did not seem to be able to process information at this moment, he decided that poking the revenant on autopilot would probably be the best strategy. Judging from the stunned expression on Alistair's face, it seemed he was also using this strategy.

Tim's brain, on the other hand, was very much working and very much frustrated at the men's inability to listen to reason. Even the dog seemed to be better at following orders than them – and the knights weren't even _pretending_ to listen to her.

"Use a health poultice, you fool!" she yelled loudly enough over the din of battle so that the fool in question could hear her.

"Me?" said Alistair, wondering if he'd gotten seriously wounded without realising. All his limbs seemed to be there...

"No! SacredBob! Health poultice! Now!"

Unfortunately, SacredBob did not seem to hear her, although the revenant did. It turned around and swung its sword in her general direction. She ran.

"Did you say something?" said Bob as she swept past him.

"Drink a health poultice you sodding son of a bronto dung heap and get its attention on you or Alistair or someone who's lucky enough to be wearing big heavy armour! You, Alistair, get some bloody crowd control in here! You'd better taunt those bloody archers _now _or get Bob's dog to kite them or do it yourself or something I don't even care but get them off _me_! And what in Aeducan's name are those knightly idiots _doing_?" screamed Tim, losing whatever patience she had once had.

"Yes ma'am," said SacredBob as he downed a lesser health poultice.

"Not a _lesser_ one!" Tim screamed.

"Oh, sorry," said Bob, digging around for a more potent poultice. "Wait, why am I _drinking_ these poultices? That's just wrong, isn't it?"

"Alright, forget the poultices, that thing's almost down! Are you even listening, you Stone-forsaken moron?"

There was a happy frenzy of barks as Flower Power jumped upon the safely dead revenant's chest, wagging his tail in triumph.

"Thank the ancestors," muttered Tim, breathing heavily in an attempt to calm herself. She started running towards the next walking corpse that was lurching towards them. "Bob, what in the Stone are you waiting for?"

"Oh right," said Bob, unsheathing his sword again and following her. "These poultices taste disgusting, by the way. Hey, where did Alistair go?"

Alistair, as it happened, was running circuits around the courtyard with a small flock of skeletons and knights chasing after him.

"What the...?" said SacredBob.

"Battle tactics," said Tim. She wiped her forehead. "You wouldn't understand."

Xox

"So these are our visitors? The ones you told me about, Mother?" said the scarily strange little boy.

"Y-yes, Connor," mumbled Isolde.

"Connor?" said SacredBob. "He's changed a lot since I last saw him..."

"Yes, I don't remember him being so demon-possessed," deadpanned Alistair.

"And now they are muttering!" said the boy, or rather, the demon. "What are they, mother? I can't see them well enough."

"There are two men, Connor, and-"

"Enough," said Tim. "This demon needs to be dealt with."

"What happened to our 'sneak in and sneak out' policy?" whispered SacredBob to Alistair.

"My, my. How rude! What shall I do, Mother?" said the demon.

"I... I don't-"

"How about a duel?" said Tim, her daggers already in her hands.

Xox

"Sorry, Bann Teagan," said Alistair, who had just a few minutes knocked him unconscious with a well-aimed pommel strike to the head.

"Yeah, er, sorry guards," said SacredBob.

"They're dead," said Tim, looking at him and raising an eyebrow.

"I know, but I'm still sorry!" said Bob. "Why didn't I think of knocking them unconscious like Teagan?"

"Because_ I_ was the one who killed them," said Tim, still giving him the eye of Why Are You Being So Stupid.

"Can we talk about this later?" said Alistair. "Bann Teagan, are you alright?"

"I am... better now, I think. My mind is my own again," said Teagan, rubbing the bruise on his head.

"Blessed Andraste! I would never have forgiven myself had you died, not after I brought you here. What a fool I am!" cried Isolde.

"Yes, quite," said Tim.

"You know," Bob said conversationally, "this is exactly why they lock mages up in a tower in a lake."

"Please!" begged Isolde. "Connor's not responsible for this! There must be some way we can save him!"

"Dealing with demons usually involves killing them, does it not?" said Tim. The day had been quite tiring, and she really did not want to bother with some convoluted compromise to solve this problem. The direct way would suit this situation quite nicely, thank you very much.

"I hate to say it, but this does seem like the only thing we can do now..." Alistair said.

"No! He is not always like this... Connor is still there! There must be some magic we can use to save him!"

"Isn't that what started all this? Magic?" said Teagan.

"Even if we could," Alistair said, "we have no mages here who could help us."

"And we are not letting that maleficaric assassin of a mage downstairs out of his cell," SacredBob added, wondering if 'maleficaric' was a word. It probably wasn't.

"But he might know something of this demon! We must find out what he knows, and what he can do... Teagan, we must!"

"Yes, because we can definitely trust him with your son's life!" said Bob.

"There is no time to waste," Tim said. "He could be gathering another army of demons as we speak. Additionally, as Alistair has said, we have no trusted mages that could hypothetically assis-"

"Hello!" said Hosomaki, opening the massive front door. "We've just come back from the Circle Tower!"

Xox

"But we've just come back from the Circle Tower!" wailed Hosomaki as Wynne outlined her heavily lyrium-dependant plan.

"We do not all have to go, Hosomaki," she said. "I should return, to support the Wardens' plea for help, but you can very well stay here to keep an eye on this poor boy."

"How long will this take?" asked Tim sceptically.

"And how do you know that this'll work? Have you ever done this before?" said Bob just as sceptically. He wasn't one for magic at the best of times, and this probably wasn't the best of times.

"We must try all that we can," Isolde said. "Please, if there is even a chance of this ritual saving my son...!"

"Who will go with me to the Tower?" Wynne asked.

"If Tim stays here she might just kill Connor anyway," Bob said.

"Fine. I shall go," Tim said. "Alistair, would you care to accompany me?"

"What?" Bob said. "Seriously?"

"Have fun," said Billybob to Alistair.

Xox

"Do you want to talk about Duncan, Alistair?" said Tim on the road to the Tower.

"You don't have to do that," Alistair said, a little surprised. "I know you didn't know him as long as I did."

"He was like a father to you. I understand," Tim said, understanding well enough but honestly not caring. The things she did in the name of ambition...

"I... should have handled it better," Alistair replied, still a little surprised by this empathy, but also rather touched. "Duncan warned me right from the beginning that this could happen. Any of us could die in battle. I'm sorry."

"Of course," said Tim automatically, as the long heartfelt speech had taken her off-guard. She tried to remember _how_ Alistair had handled it, but couldn't quite recall it. Oh well. "I mean, there's no need to apologise, Alistair."

"I'd... like to have a proper funeral for him," Alistair said slowly. "Maybe once this is all done, if we're still alive. I don't think he had any family to speak of."

"That is a very good idea," Tim said, feeling lost (emotions were not her strong point).

"It probably sounds stupid, but part of me wishes I was with him. In the battle. I feel like I abandoned him. Of course I'd be dead, then, wouldn't I? It's not like that would make him happier," Alistair continued.

_By the ancestors, he _can_ go on and on with this soppy talk,_ thought Tim. Out loud, she said, "In Orzammar, we bury our dead in the rock to be returned to the Stone. I've heard that topsiders practise different rites, however?"

"Yes," said Alistair. "We cremate them. I've heard about that, now that I think back - their spirits return to the rock, strengthening the foundation of the thaig? It sounds so strange."

"Hmm," said Tim, torn between proudly taking offence to her valued traditions and simply going along with it. "Burning your dead seems strange to me, I must admit."

"I suppose it would," said Alistair.

Neither of them had much to say after that. The elderly mage leading them did not seem to be interested in initiating a conversation with her, and so they walked on in silence.

"Speaking of apologies," said Tim suddenly, "I do apologise for my behaviour during the battle with the revenant, outside the castle. I did not mean to be so brash." It was a sincere apology, which surprised her.

Alistair laughed a little and said, "Don't worry about it. I mean, it was... nice, seeing how involved you were. You were the only one out of us who actually knew something about fighting... though I'm not sure Bob feels the same."

She made a disparaging sound in her throat._ Eurgh, Bob._

Xox

"Jowan!" cried Hosomaki halfway through his exploration of the castle dungeons.

"Hosomaki!" cried Jowan.

"Jowan!" cried Hosomaki.

"Hoso- wait, how did you get here? Did you come to help the Arl?"

"In a sense, I suppose," said Hosomaki. "How did _you_ get here?"

"It's a long story, but it ends with me poisoning the Arl..."

"You poisoned the Arl? Jowan, how _could_ you?"

"Hosomaki, don't cry!" said Jowan desperately. "I... I thought I was doing the right thing. I only did it because Teyrn Loghain asked me to... I thought I could redeem myself!"

"It was horrid enough that you decided to become a blood mage and have... _relations_ with a Chantry girl, but _murder_?" Hosomaki paused for thought. "How much did he pay you?"

"What? No! I didn't do it for _money_! I did it to try and help Ferelden – I thought Teyrn Loghain was a good man, and I was just trying to help him!" He narrowed his eyes. "Why, how much would they have to pay _you_?"

"I didn't mean it like that!"

Xox

On the journey back, Tim decided that it was time to get her priorities straight and get on with the whole Alistair affair.

"Has anyone ever told you how handsome you are?" she said in the middle of a conversation about socks (or it might have been cheese; she had stopped paying attention some time ago).

"Not unless they were asking me for a favor. Well, there was that one time in Denerim, but those women were... not like you," said Alistair. Tim mentally snorted and filed this information away. "Why? Is this your way of telling me _you_ think I'm handsome?

"Well, if we're going to be _direct_ about it..."

"Direct?" said Alistair, hiding a laugh. "You were the one who brought it up!"

"Me? Don't be so foolish. That is a most impertinent accusation," said Tim, smiling perhaps just a little, and perhaps a little of that was not just for the show.

"So," Alistair said, attempting to put on his serious face, "is this the part where I get to say the same?"

"_Get_ to? _Have_ to, I believe."

"Oh, how come?"

"Ancient dwarven law, inscribed deep within the earth. You wouldn't want to insult my noble traditions, would you?"

"Well then, my lady, if it's the law... you are very beautiful." He coughed. "Are my ears red? They feel red. This is embarrassing."

"Law-breaking avoided, just about. I suppose I'll have to let you off, then," said Tim.

"Wynne? Are my ears red?" called Alistair.

Xox

"-amazing how you can tell so much about a person from the way they fight a revenant!" finished Leliana. Her companions nodded in agreement, wondering if the Dalish-hunting group had fought any revenants yet.

"Are they back yet?" said Hosomaki, wandering into the room. The group looked up at him. "I've been talking to Jowan – the mage locked up in the basement – and he says there's another way to kill the demon."

"I'm not going to like this, am I?" said SacredBob, sighing. "Well, do enlighten us, then! And please don't say that you let him out."

"It involves blood magic-" started Hosomaki.

"Vetoed," said SacredBob.

"-and the death of Lady Isolde," continued Hosomaki.

"Doubly vetoed," said SacredBob. "Even if she _is_ a potato-hating snow-fearing squirrel-thumping curtain-cutting cheesophobic."

Hosomaki opened his mouth, and then closed it again. Then he said, "... No, I can't think of any good argument for this idea. I just wanted to let you know."

"Thank you for taking to time to question him and get this information, though," said Leliana nicely. "We must be prepared for all eventualities... if the Circle can't make it, for example."

"Or if Isolde's lifetime ambition was to... die," said Billybob.

"No, I'm sure it wasn't that," said SacredBob after thinking about it. "Hey, do you think Arl Howe likes potatoes? Or squirrels? I bet he doesn't."

The others – including FlowerPower - shrugged at each other and ignored him.

Xox

"How did you get here before us?" said Alistair, confused. He could have sworn that they had left the tower with the First Enchanter behind them, and similarly that they had not been overtaken on the road, and yet here Irving was in front of them in the castle.

"Never mind that – let's get this done with," said Tim, striding into the room. "Are the mages ready?"

"We shall begin at once," said Irving. "We have only enough lyrium to allow one mage into the Fade – have you decided upon who it shall be?"

"I'll do it," said Hosomaki immediately.

Xox

"Very well. No more illusions. Now we meet face-to-face. You see my true form and stand in my domain," said the demon before him.

"At last!" said Hosomaki. "It was very annoying, fighting those false Connors..."

The demon frowned. "If you seek to destroy me as you did them, then I bid you pause a moment – let us speak first, and then you may have your battle."

"Speak? About what?"

"I am desire. Whatever you creatures of the living world want, I seek to provide. Lust, power, greed... these are my province. Perhaps there are things _you_ wish for. Your goal is for me to release the boy's soul, is that right? And what if you could pers-"

"No!" cried Hosomaki. "No blood magic, no sex, no weird fiddling around with my friends' relationships and no spell points! I'm meant to be a good person!"

The demon frowned a little more. "I beg your pardon?"

"Just let me just kill you and get out of here," said Hosomaki, raising his staff.

Xox

The crisis was over, the demon vanquished, the danger averted. SacredBob was almost feeling optimistic about the situation until he realised that Arl Eamon was still poisoned and still about to pop off the mortal coil at any second.

Getting the Arl's help was definitely taking longer than he had anticipated.

("I'll say," said Hosomaki as he wandered the Fade that evening. "It's been two whole chapters already and we've still got the Urn to go!")

**to be continued...**

_A/N: Couple of comments: Zevran is coming soonish; he was going to be here, but describing Hosomaki's group stumbling into him would ruin the Hosomaki-not-really-a-surprise, and SacredBob's group would universally (amazingly enough) agree to kill him.  
From the Dragon Age wiki page about revenants, I saw this sentence in the strategy tip describing kiting: _"There is no shame in running around like an idiot."_ and I lol-ed. Though I dunno about the skeletal archers - I can't remember if they even have a melee weapon set, or even if they do, if they would bother following Alistair around the courtyard instead of switching back to ranged. Guh, nitpicks.  
_


	8. In which Witherfang is dealt with

**Part VIII  
**_Kalamari and the Deranged Homicidal Maniacs find Witherfang - as well as a few too many undead._

**Xox**_  
_

There was a werewolf in the woods.

"P-please... help... listen... I am not... the mindless beast I appear to be..." mumbled the said werewolf. Cel shrugged and raised an knife-wielding hand.

"Hey!" said Kalamari. "Don't kill him! Um, her? It? Hir?"

"You are... Dalish?" said the werewolf, seemingly studying Cel's tattoos. "I am, as well. Or I was, until my... change. Please, tell me, have you seen my clan?"

"We have passed _a_ clan," said Morrigan. "Is there something you desire? Or can we move on?"

"What do you know of Witherfang?" said Sten.

"How can we help?" said Kalamari.

The werewolf looked briefly taken aback at the flood of questions. "I... no! I cannot... cannot betray her! Please... tell my husband..."

"Your husband?" said Kalamari, mentally noting down that male and female werewolves sounded pretty much exactly the same.

"Athras... give him this scarf... tell him I am dead, please! Ah, the pain! The curse... is fire in my blood! Please! End it for me! End it quickly!"

Cel shrugged again and plunged the knife into the creature's throat.

Xox

"The forest has not been vigilant enough. Still you come," said the werewolf who they might have met earlier and who might have been Swiftrunner. "You are stronger than we could have anticipated. The Dalish chose well. But you do not belong here, outsider. Leave this place!"

"But I just want to ch-" started Kalamari. She was interrupted by a jet of flame whooshing past her ears and singeing a few strands of hair, and she whipped around to see Morrigan looking contemptuously after a (smoking and slightly burnt) small bird.

"What in your mum's cakehole did you do tha-" started Kalamari again. This time she was interrupted by a werewolf leaping on top of her and knocking her to the ground. She sighed mentally (and screamed physically, for the werewolf was now attempting to rip out her throat with those terribly dirty claws). All she wanted to do was chat!

After Swiftrunner had been driven off and Kalamari's bruised chest had been crushed again by yet another werewolf (this one was white and somewhat leaf-covered), the battle had been won – Kalamari turned to Morrigan and said, "Okay, _what_?"

"It was attempting to defecate on my head," said Morrigan.

Xox

The ruins were dark, smelly and full of spiders. Kalamari had not been a great fan of the forest, but she was beginning to prefer the endless maze of trees to this place.

Then again, those endless trees had held those three revenant-infested gravestones...

But on the other hand, at least Sten had some nice shiny armour now...

She was still wondering where the matching breastplate could be. To this end, she had insisted on exploring every chamber and every corridor of the crypt-like ruins. They had not stumbled upon the piece of armour yet, although they _had_ found a mysterious talking gem and yet another revenant. Unfortunately this revenant had not been holding anything particularly special – Kalamari had almost thrown the scrap of paper away before remembering that Hosomaki liked poems and disintegrating pieces of old scrolls. She tucked it into her backpack and pronounced the whole revenant-slaying ordeal a complete waste of time.

Sten and Morrigan couldn't agree more. Cel, on the other hand, didn't mind quite so much; she would have welcomed another revenant to test out her new Half-Twist-Shield-Rip-Neck-Crack-Reverse-Sword-Stomach-Pierce torture method on.

Oh well. There were always those two bumbling shems at Redcliffe to try it out on.

Xox

Kalamari had just walked into a wall.

"Ow!" The other three stared at her, wearing identical expressions of amused incredulity. "Sorry," she mumbled. "I... um, let's just go."

"This place must have taken its toll on you, for you to be so quiet and your wits to be even more stunted than before," Morrigan remarked.

Kalamari turned her head and narrowly avoided tripping on a spider exoskeleton. "Whoops! I mean, um, okay. I... It's all dark and cobwebby and I bet there are dead people around!"

"The dead are always around," Sten muttered. "We must keep moving."

"You said it," said Kalamari nervously. The ground shook beneath her feet and she crashed sideways into a wall. "Urgh, I don't think I feel well..."

"'Twas a creature ahead, not you," said Morrigan. Cel attempted to drag Kalamari up off the filthy floor, and was rewarded by Kalamari immediately spewing the contents of her stomach onto her shoes.

"Sorry," said Kalamari, wiping her mouth. Cel glared. Kalamari could almost see the elf debating internally whether to gut her for this offence.

"What is it?" said Sten to Morrigan. Her shrug was answered by a thunderous crash and a jet of flame that licked the edges of the open doorway. She hurried over and slammed the door shut.

"Your answer would appear to be a dragon," she said, rather unnecessarily. Sten did not look too impressed, neither by her or the monster. He did not have time to reply before the dragon roared and hurled something heavy (itself, most likely) into the wooden door.

"I'll kill it," growled Cel, struggling to get back up and drawing her two most vicious-looking weapons at the same time. She had been knocked off her (slightly slippery) feet by the force of the last impact and had been grievously insulted by this.

"Hmm," said Morrigan. She looked up from her telekinetic door-holding spell. "Can the other Warden walk?"

"Ghgsdbrhuh," Kalamari said. "I'm going to throw up again..."

Cel slapped her. Kalamari jumped up in outraged shock. "Yeah," Cel said to Morrigan.

"She just slapped me!" cried Kalamari. "That's really not very ni-"

Morrigan opened the door and Sten pushed her into the room.

Xox

After the dragon had been properly dealt with and its treasure piles looted, Kalamari felt a little better. The most memorable part of the battle had been when Kalamari somehow found herself face to face with the dragon and sent a rather well-timed stream of vomit into its eyes.

Oh well. She decided to attribute that victory to "skilful and innovative bodily accomplishments" when it came to telling the rest of the Wardens about it.

Xox

"I told you there would be dead people!" shouted Kalamari unhappily as she bisected the two gibbering corpses in front of her with one blow. "Urgh. Do the werewolves live with these things?"

"I think I preferred it when she was too ill to talk," said Morrigan to no-one in particular. Sten grunted, possibly (very likely) an agreement.

Xox

"Eek!" shrieked Kalamari, jumping backwards into Cel and almost dropping her battleaxe. Cel punched her in the back, causing Kalamari to jump forwards again and shriek another "Eek!".

"Now what is the matter?" said Morrigan testily, while Sten muttered silently to himself – not for the first time – of the wisdom in letting these supposedly great Grey Wardens lead the way.

"G-ghost!" said Kalamari, pointing a shaky finger at the spectre.

Morrigan did not look impressed. "So I see. Shoo, little boy."

"Is that safe?" Kalamari said. She was backing away rather quickly. "He's, like... _ghostly_."

"Can you not hear me? Shoo!"

The boy cried out in some strange forgotten language – they strained to catch his words, but only Cel seemed to understand any of it.

"Let us pass by then," said Morrigan, striding determinedly ahead. Sten and Cel followed her example; Kalamari crept quietly behind them. Their passage was cut abruptly short by another pained cry from the ghostly boy, and then the appearance of a dozen or so skeletal soldiers.

"The dead should not be walking," said Sten, looking rather disapprovingly upon them, rather as if he were about to lecture them for their blatant disobedience of the basic rules of life.

Having always had a fear of corpses since the day her mother's dead body had been dragged back from the gallows, walking skeletons and creepy little ghost children would not have been part of Kalamari's ideal day. Being surrounded by a whole crowd of the rotting things was really just too much. A revenant or two – fine – but a horde of the moving corpses swarming her was making her stomach churn. Again.

"Don't throw up again; it's disgusting," Cel said, noticing the slight green tinge Kalamari was developing and remembering her soggy shoes.

"..."

"Fight, you fool!" said Morrigan angrily behind her. Sten was already cutting a swathe through the creatures, and Morrigan herself had frozen the few that had tried to take advantage of the catatonic Kalamari.

"I-erk," said Kalamari, managing to summon up the strength of mind to take a step backwards. She tripped over Morrigan's feet.

There was an angry exclamation of pain from behind her. The next moment had Kalamari paralysed in a glimmering force field of magic.

"Run!" shouted Morrigan. The two still capable of moving – both mentally and physically – glanced after her. Sten grunted to himself and followed her; Cel was having far too much fun breaking mouldy bones and giggling at the skeletons' subsequent confusion to take in what Morrigan had just said.

She should probably have listened. Two seconds later the entire area exploded in a burning mess of charred skeletons and a very, very angry Cel.

"I told you to run! It was not my fault you decided not to listen!" said Morrigan to the gently smouldering elf hurtling towards her with two axes raised above her head. Cel was a little too far gone to hear her – instead, she was then somehow bundled up in Sten's arms, weapons removed and bodily thrown back to where the fireball had just hit.

"You dirty shem!" howled Cel, furiously pulling herself to her feet and drawing another two blades from her belt. (In actual fact, the words she used were a little coarser and definitely not anything fit to be heard from a proudly Dalish elf, but the point still got through.)

"Hurt the other Warden instead," called Morrigan. "She won't feel it."

Cel, quickly deciding that killing Morrigan was not worth the humiliation of being picked up by a stupidly large qunari, did so. She did, however, take the liberty of throwing a knife in the vague direction of Morrigan's face first. Then she turned to the frozen Kalamari and began venting out her frustration at being the target of a friendly fireball as well as not being able to finish the skeleton-torturing job properly.

"Ouch," said Kalamari as the force field released her and she dropped painfully onto the stone floor. "Okay, you can stop stabbing me now..."

Xox

"Remind me again why we are here?" said Morrigan. She was watching the elf currently pouring water onto herself and kicking altars in frustration with no small amount of disdain. "Well done. The door is now open."

"Andraste's bouncing plotbunnies!" cried Kalamari, now clutching her toe and hopping around in pain. The door was very definitely not open. "Are you _sure_ that tablet said to do that? Ow ow ow ow!"

"No," said Morrigan cheerfully. Sten and Cel snorted quietly. "But now that you have injured yourself, we may as well leave."

Kalamari glared at all three of them. "But... but the breastplate might be in there!" She pointed at Sten's mismatched armour. "Don't you want to get it?"

"What I _want_ is not the question," said Sten. "What I have sworn to do is stop the Blight. This is not stopping the Blight."

"But surely it is our _duty_ to clean this place of all the horrors within! How can we just _pass by_ as if this room had never ex-"

Cel had noticed the unmistakable signs of Kalamari launching into a Righteous Lecture. "Shut up," she said, and snatched the clay jug from her hands.

The door was opened in five seconds flat.

Xox

"It seems you were right," said Sten. He was holding up a breastplate that nicely matched the revenant-guarded armour from the forest.

"Okay then," said Kalamari, who was still in a little bit of shock from seeing – and this time fighting - another ghost, this time one of those Creepy White Lady types.

"_Now_ shall we get a move on?" said Morrigan impatiently. "Such a waste of time..."

Xox

"Ho! Werewolves!" said Kalamari after the battle was over. None of them were quite sure what had just happened, except that one moment they had been immersed in water of hypothermic qualities and then next, they were standing in a room filled with werewolves. And these ones didn't want to chat.

"Did I hear correctly? Did you really just say, 'Ho! Werewolves!'?" said Morrigan. "Really, 'Ho!'?"

"Yes!" said Kalamari, not at all sheepishly. "It was valiant and noble, even if I said it at the wrong time. I wish these werewolves wouldn't keep attacking us! They should really talk to us first. I really don't want to have to kill them..."

"We must be getting close to this Witherfang of theirs, I suppose," Morrigan said.

"After no short time getting here," Sten said. He threw open the next door.

"Stop! Brothers and sisters, be at ease!" announced a werewolf inside the room. "We do not wish any more of our people hurt. I ask you this now, outsider: are you willing to parley?"

"Ah, so now they talk," said Morrigan.

Kalamari quietly pumped an arm in triumph. "Yessss! I mean, okay, yes. Let's parley. Werewolves are cool."

The rest of her party were too used to such statements popping up in conversation to take much notice, but the werewolves surrounding growled questioningly.

"What is the point of this? We have already slaughtered our way through their comrades – why must we bother with this parley?" said Morrigan. Cel nodded enthusiastically at the mention of "slaughter".

"Because... _talking werewolves_!" said Kalamari, as if that explained everything. In her mind, it did.

Xox

Cel and Kalamari were equally speechless at the sight of the not-quite-naked-but-certainly-close-enough Lady of the Forest and the fact that _this_ was what was living down here with the werewolves. Morrigan merely looked at the spirit with undisguised contempt and Sten... didn't really care.

"Questions such as- what _exactly_ are you and why do you dwell in ruins among these beasts?" said Morrigan when it was clear that the Wardens were not exactly listening to the Lady's words.

The werewolves, as one, bared their fangs and growled at her. It was quite an impressive display of synchronicity.

"You will not speak to the Lady in this manner!" thundered Swiftrunner from beside the spirit.

Kalamari shook her head dazedly. "Wh-what did she say?"

The Lady sighed (whether it was directed at Swiftrunner or the Wardens was not obvious). "Be calm, Swiftrunner. I ask you, mortals, only to listen to what I have to say, and judge for yourself whether Zathrian has been entirely truthful."

"And of course, we should trust you to be," said Morrigan.

"If you should choose to, mortal," said the Lady. "It was Zathrian who created the curse that these creatures suffer, the same curse that Zathrian's own people now suffer. Would you like to hear more?"

"If I may speak frankly, n-" Morrigan said.

"Yes I would," said Kalamari quickly before Morrigan could start another werewolf massacre.

"Oh, so now she pays attention," muttered Morrigan. "As the Grey Warden wishes, then."

Kalamari chose to ignore the sarcasm dripping from that sentence and focus on the Lady of the Forest instead.

Xox

In the end, it was three against one.

"We must do the right thing!" said Kalamari firmly. "We can't just wipe out a whole clan of _people_!"

"They deserved it," hissed Cel. "Even if not for their past crimes, for attacking the Dalish! There is nothing to discuss!"

"Zathrian lied to us! At least we should talk to him!"

"We idle here while the Blight remains unstopped," said Sten. "You came here for the elves, no-one else."

"Or we could wipe out the elves," said Morrigan quite cheerfully. "These werewolves do seem so much more hardy in combat than tho-" She was stopped mid-sentence by Cel appearing out of nowhere and holding a dagger at her throat.

"There will not be any genocide while I'm in this party!" said Kalamari, choosing to ignore Cel and Morrigan's scuffle.

"Well, Witherfang is not likely to give up his heart willingly, is he?" said Morrigan, dusting herself off. "And just what do you intend to do when we bring Zathrian here, anyhow? How will lifting this curse bring us allies? The werewolves are no friends of the elves."

"It will heal the wounded elves!" said Kalamari.

"If that spirit wasn't lying," muttered Cel from a dark corner.

"Look!" said Kalamari, exasperated. "I'm a Grey Warden, and no offence, but the only Warden here who most people would agree is actually sane! That puts me in charge! So unless you want me to stick this axe so far up some hidden body crevice that you won't be able to eat from the right end again without fracturing your bloody kneecaps, you are going to follow me up there and find that elf like the Lady said to! Get it? Maker's butthole, why do you three have to be the most horribly screwed up mentally deranged homicidal maniacs we could find? Any other being with even a scrap of retarded intelligence in their low-key brain would choose to help a practically naked forest spirit in pain rather than slaughter the whole camp – but no, you deranged shredded buttfluff tit-weasels just have to be _different_!"

"Ah, her true spirit revealed," said Morrigan, not without a little amusement.

Kalamari took a deep breath, smiled brightly and headed up the stairs.

Xox

"It seems we do everything the long way round," commented Sten on the way up.

"'Tis true," said Morrigan coldly. "We could very well have been finished now; we had only to attack before we found Witherfang, who was no doubt watching, and instead we are sent back on another roundabout mission which has nothing whatsoever to do with the Blight at hand? Remind me why we did not simply take you on three to one?"

"... something like that, okay," said Kalamari, who had lost Morrigan's train of thought some time ago. "Do you want me to do the speech again?"

"Find Zathrian!" said Morrigan. "Why, so we could take a nice little trek all the way back to the village as if we had all the time in the world to waste?"

"Do not forget we must return here again," added Sten.

"Oh, stop moaning, guys," said Kalamari. "Look, Zathrian's right there."

"This whole en- what? Zathrian, _here_? Really?"

"So it appears," said Sten.

"Ah. And here you are already," said Zathrian, turning to face them.

"Ho there," said Kalamari, valiantly and nobly. "We have come to ask you to return with us to the werewolves' lair, for they say they, um, have something to say to you." It wasn't quite as valiant or noble as she had been aiming for, but it would do, she supposed.

"How have you come here?" said Morrigan, narrowing her eyes.

"You have carved a safe path through the forest... safe enough for me to follow, anyhow. But what is this about meeting with the wolves? Have they _really_ turned you against your own kind?"

Cel hissed in anger, and Kalamari was forced to quickly babble on about how the other elf had definitely not turned against her beloved Dalish and really, it was all Kalamari's own fault that they had even considered not taking the heart at once. Which was true, so that was alright.

Xox

Cel's head was starting to hurt. All these deceptions and twists – she was starting to forget who did what first and who lied about what when and it was all too much. She had gotten as far as "Zathrian isn't immortal, he's just a lying idiot," when she gave up altogether. Why was it that they always seemed to be having some sort of confusing conversation with silly hidden options and opinions and Dirthamen knows what else, when all they really should be doing was killing darkspawn and various other fun and gory activities? It was all very silly.

Luckily for her, the next moment brought with it a sudden outburst of fighting, setting her mind at ease and clearing away the foggy headache. It did take her a minute or two to really register who she was fighting, though.

When the realisation came, the headache was suddenly back with a vengeance. Fighting against a Dalish keeper? No... that couldn't be right. What was she doing? She was Dalish... Mahariel... what had she done?

The sylvan that she had been harassing took advantage of her confusion and consequential lack of motion to sweep her up in one of its branches, and Cel's complete mental chaos was replaced by thoughts of, "Oh shit, it's crushing me."

Things happened in a rush after that. There was a sweep of an unreasonably large axe, a crunch of wood and an unnatural scream, and then Cel was on the floor with branches prodding into her back. The next thing was Kalamari flailing around with an enraged sylvan now short one limb about to rip her head off, and the thing after that was Cel jumping and then holding onto the walking tree desperately with her knees. She vaguely realised that she was stabbing the syvlan's face (or whatever these trees had for a face), and that now it had toppled over in its death throes and thrown her onto someone else entirely, and now she had accidentally stabbed Zathrian in the shoulder. She stumbled backwards and swore.

Fortunately Zathrian was doing much too much begging for his life – pinned down as he was by a dagger in his chest – and debating about the true nature of mercy to hear her, and the rest of the room was listening to him. Cel, under a stealth cover, slunk into a corner and tried to forget that she had almost killed a Dalish keeper.

Xox

"Can we just kill them anyway?" said Cel, still rather annoyed, confused and trying for a good fight.

"You're joking, right?" said the man formerly known as the werewolf Swiftrunner. "You don't actually intend to kill us after all this?"

"No we don't," said Kalamari, pointedly ignoring Morrigan and Cel's expressions of gleeful anticipation. "We can go and kill some bears later. Just stop messing this up!" she hissed to Cel. Morrigan, she suspected, would not prove so easy to please with the temptation of wild animal carnage.

"Err... thank you, I suppose. Come on, everyone. Let's go. Quickly," said Swiftrunner.

"Good idea," said Kalamari. "Although, you know, you might want to change your name...? I mean, Swiftrunner is going to be a _really_ weird name for a human..."

"Yes, point taken," said Swiftrunner. "Goodbye." The ex-werewolves were out of the room before Cel could even think about hurling an axe at anyone. Kalamari suddenly felt very alone.

"So, let me summarise this... we have brought about the death of their leader and let their enemies walk free. Is this really what the Wardens had in mind when we were to recruit the help of the elves?"

"It will work out for the best," Kalamari said stubbornly. "It was the nice thing to do. No genocide. It _always_ works out for the best! It has to!"

Xox

"No more revenants," said Kalamari, looking at the black vial in the ruins' basement. "No. Just no."

Cel sniggered. "But surely it is our _duty_ to clean this place of all the horrors within! How can w-"

"Shut up," said Kalamari, feeling that her generous spirit had been a little too generous as of late. "I don't want to see another dead body as long as I live. Urgh."

"Considering your choice of profession, that may be a hard wish to grant," Morrigan said. Kalamari nodded sadly and put the vial back where it had come from.

Her fingers slipped and the fragile glass smashed on the floor.

Xox

Happily for Kalamari, things did seem to be working out for the best (well, except for worthless revenants who insisted on not only being Maker-damned annoying to fight, but also on not carrying anything of use whatsoever and Andraste's pillowrats be damned if Hosomaki didn't appreciate these odd little poems she'd kept for him). The new keeper gave them their troops, Varathorn gave them a nice new piece of armour, Cammen and Gheyna were now blissfully happy together, and Athras was suitably grateful for the return of his wife's scarf.

Time to move on. She just hoped that one of the others knew where Redcliffe was.

**to be continued...**

_A/N: General observations:_  
_- Oh dear, Zevran is never going to appear, is he? His entry just keeps getting more and more delayed._  
_- Cel has the equivalent of a small museum collection of daggers, hunting knives and axes in her belt, hence her constant changing between "two axes" to "two daggers" and all other variations thereof._  
_- Kalamari is a lovely and sweet girl, but the whole "travelling with three homicidal maniacs" and "tiny little phobia of the (very dirty) undead" is starting to get to her._  
_- So far this fic - not including notes and author's scraps - is 81 pages long in Word._  
_- I mentioned maybe shipping SacredBob/Kalamari some time ago, and now I've revised that to Kalamari/Anyone._  
_- THERE IS A NAKED LADY LIVING IN THE ROTTING RUINS. Wtf._


	9. In which everyone reaches Redcliffe

**Part IX**  
_An Antivan elf, a love quadrangle - or is it?, a despairing Jowan and the Big Meet-Up._

**Xox**

"Please help us! Our wagon has broken down, and there are bandits on the road just waiting to prey on us helpless travellers!" begged the woman. Of course, this group of travellers being led by a certain Kalamari Tabris, the woman really hadn't needed the begging part. Kalamari would probably have helped even if she'd specifically been told to go away, leave them in peace and never come back on pain of torturous death – as the rest of the party knew from dire experience.

So it came as no surprise when Kalamari immediately replied, "Okay, sure! Where's your wagon?" The other three gave synchronised sighs as they followed her and the woman to the nearby clearing. Busy with their mental rolling of the eyes as they were, they were not quite prepared for the so-called helpless traveller whisking out a mage's staff and smiling evilly as the ambush was sprung around them.

"Whoops," said Kalamari.

"This is why I kill shems _before_ they talk," muttered Cel.

"The Grey Warden dies here!" shouted a voice, and then the fighting began.

"What kind of accent is that?" said Kalamari curiously as she ducked an arrow. Then she remembered that this was a life-or-death situation and as such needed her full attention. "I mean, take that, you hairy blanket! And that! Die! Ha!"

Thankfully, the scuffle was over in a matter of minutes, and the enemy was soon reduced to a pair of archers firing from a small hillock overhead.

"'Twould be kind of you if you would help," said Morrigan, shooting bolts of energy at regular intervals and feeling rather overworked. The other three looked at her.

"I'm wearing heavy armour," explained Kalamari. "It's hot and sweaty and icky when I go up hills."

"You are doing well enough as it is. There is no need to expend extra energy," said Sten.

"Grrr," said Cel from deep within her throat, a primal cry of rage at the hidden tripwires and clawed foot-stranglers that had ensnared her on the way up the hill. At least she was _trying_ to attack... (and what was even _more_ impressive was that she was attempting to attack the enemy, rather than Morrigan herself).

Morrigan pursed her lips. One of the archers had just gone down, clutching his chest and gibbering. She turned her efforts to shooting down the second.

"Did you, Kalamari, just now reject a cry of _help_?" she said, suddenly realising what Kalamari had just said.

Kalamari looked a little sheepish. "Um... I'm also trying to help that poor archer over there?"

"He has peppered me with a pincushion's worth of arrows!"

"We have health poultices for that sort of thing!" said Kalamari, giving Morrigan a lesser one and wondering whether it would be inappropriate to help out by applying the paste to the witch's rather hole-filled chest. (Kalamari wasn't usually one to wonder about inappropriateness or indeed have the thought of "intruding upon personal space" even cross her mind, but Morrigan took "inappropriate" to a whole new level.) "And that poor archer doesn't. I'm, um, just giving him a few more seconds of precious life before he falls..."

There was a muffled thump from across the clearing. Morrigan put her staff away.

"There," she said. "Now that we are done – with no help from you – let us be gone."

Kalamari looked down at the bodies surrounding her feet. A few of them were still moving.

"Wait!" she said. "I think this man's still alive... we can't just leave him there!"

"Why ever not?" said Morrigan. "They did try to kill us, if you remember?"

"Better?" said Cel, having untangled herself from the traps and then having quietly crept up from behind to slit the not-quite-dead man's throat.

"Okay," said Kalamari, feeling a bit queasy. "Well... I guess now we can leave him there. But wait! We... um... haven't looted them all yet!"

"A good point," said Sten. Even Morrigan and Cel had to see the sense in this.

Kalamari mentally congratulated herself, and started putting health poultices on various mortally wounded 'enemies' while the rest of the team were distracted looking for purses, fancy-looking belts and other such shiny objects. Dishonourably looting the dead was really the only steady income they were getting – and besides, sometimes there were rather nice things in there. Like health poultices. The only explanation Kalamari could think of as to why these dead bodies were holding poultices was that they just hadn't known what to do with them (which was why they were dead) and probably just took them along because everyone else was, and didn't want to look stupid. The more difficult problem was why they had often come across dead _wolves_ holding health poultices. Perhaps the wolves had taken them as a form of hunting trophy from the poultice-ignorant peer-pressured travellers they had killed.

Confusing thoughts aside, she turned her attention back to the elf she was healing (giant spiders, skeletons and darkspawn were one thing, and Cel in Dalish-fueled rage had always managed to butcher the werewolves too horribly to help, but Kalamari wasn't so good with leaving people to die a lonely and painful death).

The elf in question coughed. "Mm... what?"

"Shh!" said Kalamari. "Don't tell them that I gave you that poultice!"

The elf stared at her. Kalamari sighed.

"... never mind, okay. Just play dead and, um, run away later."

"This one's alive," said Cel, who had appeared out of nowhere with a knife at the ready. Kalamari stood up and tried to act surprised.

"Stop sneaking up like that! And don't kill him! Look, he's an elf with tattoos!"

Cel peered closer. "Not Dalish."

"Well, where _do_ you come from?" said Kalamari to the probably-very-confused elf on the ground.

"Antiva," said the elf in that strange accent she had wondered about during the battle. "Am I to be interrogated, then?"

"Um... sure, why not," said Kalamari. "So that's where the accent comes from! Right?"

"Yes, a brilliant deduction," said the elf, giving her a wary look. "I suppose I will save you some time – my name is Zevran, or Zev to my friends, and I am a member of the Antivan Crows sent here to assassinate the remainder of the Grey Wardens."

"Ha! Bad timing! If you'd waited another few days when we got to Redcliffe and met up with the other five, you could've caught all of us!" said Kalamari triumphantly.

"Or he _wanted_ to get us separately," pointed out Cel.

"... because it'd be easier to kill us that way. Oh. Well, never mind, we're not dead and you can try again tomorrow." She beamed.

Cel now looked torn between exactly which of the two elves next to her she should throttle.

"I mean," said Kalamari quickly, "you are _not_ going to try again tomorrow. Are you?"

"... as you can see, I really don't think I'll be in much of a position to."

"Okay then. And what are these Antivan Cows, anyway?"

"_Crows_, dear lady," said the elf pointedly. "I suppose you would not have heard of the Crows here; in Antiva, we are rather... infamous. An order of assassins, you see."

"Shall I kill him now?" said Cel. She was looking at Kalamari for approval (was that nervousness in her stance?).

"Why haven't you tried to already?" said Kalamari, surprised. Not that she wanted the elf dead or anything, but Cel _not_ killing anything at first sight was really something very unusual.

Cel looked even more uncomfortable. "He's an elf," she said.

"Oh," said Kalamari, thanking the Maker that she was one too. She patted Cel on the shoulder. "Well, don't worry about it. Not killing people is a very good thing."

"If you are discussing whether I should be dead or not, would you care to hear a proposal?" said the elf – Zevran – still lying on the ground giving them both cautious looks.

"Okay...?"

"As I've quite obviously failed to kill you, the Crows will hold my life forfeit. You seem the sort to give the Crows pause – so let me travel with you instead."

"... you want to kill us," said Cel, pointing out the rather obvious flaw in this proposal.

"And you probably want to kill me!" said Zevran cheerfully. "Not, of course, that that would be any sort of solution... to be honest, I doubt that I have any chances of success right now. Besides, I'm sure I could be of much use to you."

"Ooh, can you do card tricks?" said Kalamari.

Zevran blinked. "... as a matter of fact, yes. I could also give you twelve different types of massage as well as six parlour games for special occasions. Wonderful for parties, no?"

"What is this?" said Morrigan, coming over. Her backpack jingled faintly with the sound of recently picked-up copper coins. Sten, Kalamari noticed, had got caught in some more tripwires on the way up the hill where the dead archers had been standing.

"He says he's an Antivan Cow. Crow, I mean. Who was sent to assassinate all the Wardens," explained Kalamari. "And he wants to come along."

"Ah, so we're picking up strange elves who want us dead and letting them sleep in our tents? A cunning plan, truly. I suppose his ears are the only reason our insane companion has not killed him yet."

"Well..."

Xox

"Here, Tim," said Alistair. "Look at this." They were sitting on the pier that ran out to the lake, and Alistair was rummaging in his pack for what Tim had assumed to be more cheese crackers. Evidently she was wrong, unless it happened to be some kind of limited edition original run from 8:95 Blessed.

It would be rather horrifying if he expected her to eat them.

Tim, leaning on his shoulder in what would have been a rather embarrassing fashion had anyone from Orzammar caught her, looked. It was a rose.

"It is a rose," she said. She didn't really know what else she _could_ say. At least it wasn't mouldy biscuits.

"Well, yes. I picked it in Lothering, and... I just wanted to give it to you." He was blushing, Tim noticed, and it was actually rather adorable. She mentally shook herself.

"Whatever for?"

"It's... I remember thinking, 'How can something as beautiful as this rose exist in a Blight like this?' or... perhaps something a bit more eloquent. And then I thought, if it means something like that, it reminded me of what I think when I see you."

Tim looked at the flower, then at his nervously hopeful face (she could read him like a book, hardly any trait worth having in a king, hardly anything to smile about...) and then back at the flower. "It reminds you of me? How so?"

"I thought... I never expected to find someone like you, you know, uh, wonderful and rare and amazing, in the middle of this darkness and the Blight. And... now we can get right on with the awkward and embarrassing bit."

"I'm... touched, Alistair," said Tim slowly. The poor boy looked crestfallen – he'd probably misinterpreted that uncertainty in her voice for 'she's not really touched at all and is trying to find a good way to tell me so' rather than 'she _is_ really touched and also completely bewildered because it's the first time she's felt a warm fuzzy emotion in the last ten years'.

It was an understandable mistake. She looked up, smiled, and said, "Really, I mean it. It does mean a lot to me. Thank you."

"Really?" said Alistair, brightening up – both in the emotional way and the colouring way. "... and now I'm going to sit over there until this blushing stops. To be safe. You know." He coughed uneasily.

"I will see you in five minutes, then," said Tim. She was still smiling, much to her own chagrin.

"Yes, practical as always," said Alistair, trying to force the blood away from his cheeks and ears by sheer mental will. It wasn't working. He put his arm around Tim's shoulder a little awkwardly. There was the sound of footsteps behind him, and he turned his head to see Leliana right in his face.

"Leliana!" He jumped up. Tim was already on her feet.

"Alistair!" said Leliana. Was that a hint of reproach in her voice? "So is it true, what I've heard? Are you and Tim really together?"

"Uh..." Alistair wasn't sure whether which answer would offend Tim more. "We might be?"

"Yes, I can very well assure you that it is true, and is there a problem?" said Tim, walking up to Leliana and daring her to answer. Leliana stepped backwards.

"A problem? In a sense, I suppose – I thought that Alistair and I... but you, Tim... and SacredBob..."

"Excuse me?" said Tim. It was the kind of quietly dangerous tone that caused small children to soil themselves and even the bravest of dogs to flee with their tail between their legs. It was a testament to Leliana's courage that she did not step more than two steps backwards.

"I thought there was something between us, Alistair," she said. "It... appears I was wrong."

"Could you repeat that please?" said Alistair, stunned. "There... was something?"

"I'm sorry. I'll go." And so she did.

"What a strange woman," said Tim, sitting back down again. "Did I also hear SacredBob's name mentioned in her delusions?"

Alistair stared after the retreating Leliana. "But... I don't even... what was she thinking?"

Tim gave him a Look. (Only the most powerful of looks are eligible to be called a Look, and Tim was a master of them.) "You... oh, stop talking. Now."

Then she kissed him. Alistair decided to forget about Leliana for now.

Xox

Kalamari was listening to Zevran's conversation about the seven stages of lanthrax poisoning and how exactly to kill a man during oral sex with nothing but a sharp pin and a strawberry. She wondered about herself and her talent for choosing only the most murderously deranged for her travelling party.

Still, she thought in the midst of her zoned-out thoughts, Cel was really rather fun to be around if you got past the first few murder attempts. She made a mental note to buy Cel some cough sweets to help with that voice.

Xox

"-and then she rolled her eyes and asked if I was joking when I politely suggested we go into the back room. But I wasn't joking!" said Hosomaki petulantly.

"Oh," said Jowan at a loss for words. "... so what else did you do today? Do you know what's going to happen to me?"

"They keep saying they're going to wait until Arl Eamon wakes up. Sorry..." Hosomaki had been visiting Jowan at regular intervals and generally being a helpful friend to talk to. He was, however, too much of a worried coward to actually release the man himself.

"I guess I'll just have to wait and see, then." Jowan sighed deeply and buried his face in his hands. "I suppose they're going to execute me... or worse, make me Tranquil..." he said, sneaking a look at Hosomaki to see if he had had any success in tugging at the elf's heartstrings.

"Don't say that! I'm sure they... I mean... I don't know! Jowan!"

Hosomaki was rescued from his inner turmoil by a clearly upset Leliana rushing through the basement.

"What was that?" said Jowan, trying and failing to see from behind the bars.

"I'm going to see if she's alright. See you tomorrow, Jowan."

Jowan had opened his mouth to say something. He closed it again. "It's alright for some," he muttered under his breath.

Xox

"Hi honey, I'm home-woah! You made it!" said SacredBob as he and FlowerPower stomped in through the front gate of the castle and saw the five new arrivals sitting in the front hall.

"Bob!" said Kalamari happily. "We got the elves' approval for the treaty and everything! Where's everyone else? We only just got here, and Bann Teagan says that he doesn't know anything..."

"I saw Hosomaki down in the tavern trying to get a kiss from the barmaid," said Bob, cocking his head to think about it. "And Alistair and Tim are on some sort of cute little 'date' walking by the lake... eurgh... oh yeah, Wynne and Billybob were also in the tavern with a few barrels of ale, and I don't know about anyone else."

There was a movement in the corner of his eye, and he turned to see the front door opening again.

"Oh! This is Zevran – we found him on the way here," said Kalamari, feeling that it would be better to spare Bob the knowledge of how exactly they had found him. "Zevran, this is SacredBob."

"Er, nice to meet you," said Bob, shaking his hand.

"And the same to you," said Zevran. He was smirking slightly in the kind of way that reminded Bob distinctly of that Dairren who kept finding excuses to visit Highever, as well as Hosomaki.

"... sure," Bob said. "Please don't be hitting on me, because I've got enough of that coming from the other elf guy in my team. Anyway, I'm going to have a bath, and then we can meet here this evening to talk about Orzammar and all that."

FlowerPower barked happily and followed him out.

Xox

"That elf sure got what was coming to him, haha." Billybob sniggered as he downed the remains of his tankard. Then he collapsed onto the table.

"Indeed," said Wynne, feeling that it was probably time for her to make a speedy exit. But, she thought, it would be much too nasty just to leave the dwarf here. "Perhaps we should go."

Billybob struggled to sit back up. "Sorry... not used to this topsider stuff. Good, though." He collapsed again.

"Dear Maker..." muttered Wynne.

Xox

Sten and Morrigan were lost somewhere deep inside Castle Redcliffe.

"Stop looking at me like that!" said Morrigan, crossing her arms. "'Twas not _my_ fault that you followed me here!"

"It is not _my_ fault that you know nothing about civilised society and their dwellings," said Sten.

"Perhaps _you_ should have led the way to the latrines, then," Morrigan said. "For one who grumbles so much about not leading, you are certainly quick to put the blame on others!"

Sten restrained himself from brutally braining Morrigan with the much-too-massive sword on his back.

Xox

"So you really didn't lead her on?" said Hosomaki, narrowing his eyes.

"No!" Alistair replied. "Honestly, I don't know what got into her!"

"I only want to get to the bottom of this. Maybe she misinterpreted something you said?"

"But I've hardly spoken to her!" Alistair was very nearly at the point of flailing his arms in desperation to prove his innocence. "I've had maybe two conversations with her, and there was always someone else there! I honestly think she must be imagining things, because I'd _never_..."

"Is she really that imaginative?" Hosomaki said, wide-eyed.

"You know, when we first met her, she said that the Maker had sent her a holy vision and personally asked her to come along with us."

"Hmm."

Hosomaki's musings were disturbed by the entrance of a faintly disapproving Wynne and a rather drunk Billybob.

"S'the meeting started yet?" said Billybob, collapsing onto a bench. "Really looking forward to gettin' on with the job, y'know... haven't slaughtered any good dar'spawn for aaaages..."

"Yes, the others will be here soon, I expect," Hosomaki told him. "Wynne, are you alright?"

"I did have to escort the dwarf all the way up the cliffs and over the bridge, but I managed it in the end," she said, sitting down with a sigh of relief. "Have you been here long?"

"Hi!" said Kalamari, bouncing in before Hosomaki could reply. Cel followed her, glowering silently at the humans in the room. "It's so good to see you all again! Yay! How was the Circle Tower, Hosomaki? Ooh, what's your name? Alistair, I've heard all about you and Tim!"

"All my friends turned into demons and we had to kill them," said Hosomaki, his voice wavering. Kalamari gulped. "But we got some way with the treaty in the end. Kala, this is Wynne. She's from the Tower. Wynne, this is Kalamari, another Grey Warden. And... the Crazy Elf Lady is the other one. We don't know her name, you see..."

"I remem'er her," said Billybob proudly from the other side of the room.

"It is good to meet you," said Wynne graciously. She chose to ignore the dwarf completely, much like the rest of the room.

"Sorry about your friends, Hosomaki," said Kalamari. "Here! I brought you some old papers we picked up so you can put it in your journal!"

"Really?" said Hosomaki, brightening. "Thanks! I can't wait to put them in the Codex!"

"We had to fight a whole slew of revenants to get them," Kalamari informed him. "Nasty little nutbuggers, those..."

"Hey!" said Alistair suddenly. "Did you just say something about Tim? And me? In the same sentence?"

"Your ears are going red. Awwwww!" said Kalamari, giggling.

Any retort that Alistair might have come with was stopped in its tracks by the sight of Zevran, Morrigan, Leliana and Sten being physically shepherded into the room.

"... 'cos this is the Grey Wardens' private chat only! Move!" shouted a voice that might have been SacredBob's from the newly opened doorway. The door was quickly shut after them. Even so, the already-seated in the designated meeting room could still hear tiny snatches of conversation behind it with such phrases as, "... an as yet untold reason why you care?", "... doesn't even want to be King," and "... exactly why I've put us in separate groups, nuglicker!".

"Fine, fine," said Zevran, soon finding a comfortable seat next to Hosomaki. "I believe we have not been introduced, fine ladies and gentlemen? My name is Zevran."

"Ah! I'm Hosomaki," said Hosomaki. "Bob mentioned something about you, I remember! Did you say it was Antiva you came from? I heard they-"

"Quiet!" said Tim, storming into the room. There was a sudden feeling of intense cold that appeared to be emanating from the ex-princess herself, and the room was swiftly silenced. SacredBob followed her in, looking agitated. The door slammed shut behind them. "Is everyone here? Good. Let us commence."

"Er, yeah," said Bob, unrolling a scroll from his pocket. "See, we've got two out of three treaties done, and made some progress with Arl Eamon and all that political stuff. So there's just two more things we really need to get done, and that's getting the Arl out of bed and getting help from Orzammar."

"What SacredBob is _trying_ to say is that we have arranged three groups in which we will go travelling. The third will deal with these letters calling for aid and other such matters of interest around this country. Now, for the Orzammar dealings, the mutually compatible group chosen will be Alistair, Wynne, Billybob and myself." She spoke the name 'Billybob' with a tone more suited for certain manure-dwelling insects. Billybob was a little too tipsy to notice.

"Aw, I've always wanted to see Orzammar!" said Kalamari.

"Yes, I've heard many stories of that city... it will be a shame to miss it," Leliana added. Tim spared them a glance, as she wasn't quite sure about her exact feelings concerning surface-dwellers and tourist visits to her glorious city. Leliana answered that glance with a wounded glare.

"Yes, yes, you can go there next time when there isn't a Blight on our hands," SacredBob said. "Everyone alright so far? Leliana, stop sniffling. Right... the group that will be sent on a wild goose chase for a holy relic that may or may not be real because we have no evidence for its existence whatsoever is... Morrigan, Sten, Leliana and me. And FlowerPower."

"Such joy," muttered Morrigan. "Being sent on another useless quest for some imaginary object..." Sten grunted.

Tim paid no attention to either of them, and continued where Bob had left off. "The remaining will form the final group, who will spread the word of the Grey Wardens around Ferelden, reply to these letters, provide valuable services for those in danger and so forth. The overall intention is to gather support and acknowledgment from the citizenry of the country in the pursuit of reaching a political advantage. Is that clear?"

"Yes ma'am," grumbled the room as one. Well, Billybob hadn't actually replied, and SacredBob had actually said, "Can you please stop with those stupid fancy long words which you don't actually need?", but the overall effect was of "Yes ma'am."

"Wait a moment," said Kalamari after a moment had passed. "Is there a reason why my group only has elves?"

"Yes," said SacredBob. "You guys have Cel."

"Oh."

**to be continued...**

_- Leliana ninja-romances all the characters I don't want her to get with, and refuses to have anything whatsoever to do with the characters I do want her to get with. This chapter, I was going to do six different betrayed-Leliana/PC-thinking-wtf? scenes, but then only Tim has any sort of semi-established romance going on._  
_- Argh help eek too many characters I need to put all thirteen of them in one chapter! And Jowan!_  
_- Alistair is basically a puppy who will fall in love with your female Warden if given half a glance (and if given sufficient lies when you do something bitch-worthy), and is too adorable for anyone not fall in love with him. During the few days in which they were waiting for Kalamari's group, Tim probably had more than enough time to go through his dialogue options and get a truckload of approval points. I don't know what people think of the whole Alistair/Tim thing - I'm a bit uncertain of it myself, but I do want to keep it as close to my games as possible - but they're not going to be the only romances in town. :)_  
_- Anyone choosing to take on the assassin who just tried to kill you and in all likelihood will continue trying must be crazy. Kalamari certainly is, so that's okay. In-game, I make special OOC provisions (i.e. telling other people "I know it's out of character for Tim not to kill him, but I need to meta-make exceptions for companions because I need a team! Yeah!") for him because he is so awesome._


	10. In which Haven is massacred

**Part X**  
_SacredBob leads an expedition to Haven, and Sten thinks it all a waste of time._

**Xox**

It was the crack of dawn. After plans, meetings and messenger pigeons had been discussed and discarded, SacredBob felt it was high time to be getting on with the whole "stop the Blight – and by the way, cure Arl Eamon!" strategy.

"I wouldn't suppose that you had _any idea at all_ in your mind about where this Urn is?" said Morrigan. "Forgetting for a moment the extremely low chances of the remains of some burnt woman actually holding any power to heal this Arl, of course, and the equally low chances of it actually _existing_."

"Nope," said SacredBob rather cheerfully given the circumstances. "But I do have the address of a... er, lessee... Brother Genitivi!" He brandished a slightly crumpled-looking piece of parchment, stuck out his chest and tried to look dashingly heroic.

"I'm sorry, does that help?" said Leliana, wrinkling her brow.

"Yes; it shows that his brain has been damaged beyond repair," Morrigan said.

SacredBob had managed to hold onto his dashingly heroic pose for a full five seconds before settling back onto his heels and muttering, "I need the triumphant music for that to work, dammit!". He put the parchment into his bag and straightened up again.

"So... does that help?" Leliana repeated.

"Er... yes, because Ser Perth over there told me personally that this man, who won't actually be at this address because he's now missing and possibly killed, might probably have been doing some research into the vague whereabouts of the Urn!"

"... really, now," said Morrigan. She had just revised her opinion of the whole Urn-chasing affair from "almost definitely a failure" to "a failure so bad that we might as well chop off SacredBob's legs right here and be done with it".

"Really!" said SacredBob. The only one who appeared to be sharing his enthusiasm was FlowerPower, and that was probably only because the dog had no idea what his master was talking about. Still, any support was good support. He tickled FlowerPower behind the ears.

"Sten, what do you think?" said Morrigan pointedly.

"This man is an idiot."

"Your mum's an idiot." Bob crossed his arms.

"I wouldn't go as far as to say _that_," Leliana said cautiously, "but I do think that finding the Urn of Sacred Ashes is a slightly tall order! I'm sure it must exist, and I know I would do anything for a chance to-"

"Yes, but this woman also believes that she is conducting a secret affair with our other idiotic human Warden," Morrigan said. "Whereas_ I_ am almost completely sure that it _doesn't_ exist."

Leliana gasped and then followed it up with a hurt glower. FlowerPower growled.

"Let me translate," said Bob helpfully to Morrigan. "It means he doesn't like you."

"I'm sure it does."

"The point is," Bob said, after a suitable amount of time had passed, "-_the point is_, I am in fact your very own Grey Warden, and as such reserve the right to boss you around. Suck on that."

Xox

"So here we are in Denerim," said Leliana, marvelling. "It seems different from the last time I was here... more bustling, even, and somewhat smellier."

"You were here before?" said SacredBob. He was currently squinting at the address in his hand. "Do you know where 'Very Big Market High Street' is, by any chance?"

"... yes, a long time ago," said Leliana, suddenly looking very shifty. "It was nothing, really, just a quick visit."

"From the name, I would assume that the street you are looking for is right here," Morrigan said.

"Ah! So it is," Bob said. He reminded himself to ask Leliana about that visit later – not to mention the whole Alistair thing he had heard about yesterday. "Yes, the fact that it is the only street in the very big marketplace _is_ a bit of a giveaway..."

Leliana knocked on the door. There was no answer. Sten thumped the lock with the pommel of his sword, and pushed it open.

"Hey! You can't just break in like that!" said the man in front of them.

Bob coughed. "By the authority of the Grey Wardens and this sword I've got right here, you'll find that I can. Righty ho then. Where can I find Genitivi?"

"But the guards-"

"No, Genitivi," said Bob patiently. "Not guards."

The man opened and closed his mouth a few times, and stared at them. Then he glanced over at Morrigan and Sten, and gulped. "Yes, this is his house, and I'm his assistant. He left some time ago; the only thing I know is that he said he'd be staying at an inn near Lake Calenhad."

"Cool," said Bob, and pushed past him into the house. "What's your name again?"

"Weylon- hey, I didn't invite you in!" said the assistant, waving his arms about frantically. "You..."

"Ooh, a book about dragons!" Bob exclaimed happily. He picked it up and flicked through a few pages.

"Stop it!" said Weylon. He was held up in his attempt to take the book out of Bob's hands, however, as FlowerPower had just pushed him over and was now sitting on him.

"Put the book away and get on with it," said Morrigan. She was tapping her foot.

"That's what _she_ said," muttered Bob under his breath.

"I'm sorry?"

"So, er, what were you saying about Genitivi, Weylon? Any idea where he is now?" said Bob, rising back to normal volume.

"Well... the only thing I found in his notes was about Lake Calenhad. That's the only lead I can give you, I'm afraid."

"Right on," Bob said absentmindedly, and strolled past him to get to the next room.

"I thought he _told_ you he was going to the inn?" Leliana said. "Didn't you just say that?"

"Well... yes, but I also had a look through hi- hey! You can't go in there!"

Bob paused with a hand over the doorknob. "Did someone say something?"

"I said, you can't go in there! That's... that's where all the important research is! You can't disturb that!"

"Important research, yeah? Great! That's just what we need." Bob went in.

"You-!" There were the sounds of a scuffle and the unmistakeble hiss of magic. A few moments later, the other three people and a dog had crossed the room to join SacredBob. They looked a little rumpled.

"What just happened?"

"He attempted an attack, the fool," Morrigan told him.

"I don't understand why people still do that," said Leliana. "It is obvious that we have won every battle that anyone brings us, and especially with him being so outnumbered..."

"Yes, well, people are idiots," Bob said. "Oh look, a dead body. Guess this is what the new dead body over there was trying to hide."

"His clothes are tagged with 'Weylon'," Leliana informed him. "This must be the real Weylon. I wonder who the imposter was working for, then?"

"How can you be so sure of that? It does seem a far leap to assume that the other man was an imposter, really," Morrigan said. "After all, perhaps he felt the fancy to dress up a beggar in his clothes and then strangle him in the back room for an evening's entertainment."

"... I think you've been living with your slightly crazy witch-mother for too long," Bob said. "FlowerPower, don't eat the dead guy, please. Leliana, is there anything else important over there?"

"Research notes." She handed him a sheaf of papers.

Bob flipped through them. "You have to wonder why he didn't take his important research notes _with him_, but hey. It says here he was headed off to some quaint little village up the Frostback Mountains – not the Lake."

"The same Frostback Mountains that are on the complete opposite side of Ferelden?" Leliana said.

"Er... yes," said Bob, staring at the crudely drawn map in his hands. "Just our luck, right?"

Xox

"I hope this Genitivi is really worth visiting," said Leliana. She had long since given up her efforts on warding frostbite from her toes – she could only hope that she wouldn't have to amputate a leg after this.

"Bloody Frostback Mountains," muttered SacredBob. FlowerPower, on the other hand, couldn't understand why the humans – and the qunari – seemed so upset about the whole adventure. His obnoxiously happy barking as he leapt easily up the path earnt him a whack from a thrown stick.

"Serves that mongrel right," said Morrigan.

SacredBob, normally faithful to the last to his beloved Mabari, was too exhausted to think of a good comeback. FlowerPower sniffed the stick. Then he turned and presented it to Bob, tail wagging.

"You really are an idiot, aren't you?" said Bob fondly. The general annoyance and hypothermic torture that journeying across the Mountains had brought meant that his 'fond' tone of voice was really more of 'ch-ch-chattering hell' sort of tone, but FlowerPower dropped the stick and licked him happily enough anyway. Bob threw the stick again.

"As he is _willingly_ following you, I'm inclined to agree," Morrigan said.

"My heart bleeds for you," said Bob.

"This is a fool's errand," said Sten from behind them. "This is no way to be dealing with the Blight."

"Er... well, you see, I _am_ a fool. So yeah. Talking wastes body heat, you know right?" _So shut up_, he mentally added.

"How do you intend to face the Archdemon by heading _out of_ Ferelden? By walking so far that we simply pop out again from the other side?"

"Talk to the hand, 'cos the face ain't listening," Bob said.

There was a beat. "Pardon?"

"I said, we're finding the Urn so therefore we are finding the bloody Urn. Get used to it!" Bob snapped. He rubbed his face and tried to calm down. It was just the cold, and the blisters, and the awful howling wind... But sheesh, you'd think that after Sten had voiced his two hundredth and sixty seveth complaint, he'd had learnt that Bob's answer was really Not. Going. To. Change. Maybe qunaris just didn't understand the concept of operant conditioning.

"Why?" Sten said.

"To heal the Arl. I told you. Two hundred and sixty seven times. Yeah, that's right, I counted!"

"We are aiming to defeat the Archdemon, not to nurse an old man back to health. Why is this more important than a Blight?"

"Because," said Bob in the most patient voice he could muster, "to fight the Blight – hey, that rhymed! – we need an army, and to get an army we need humans because a couple of elves and dwarves just aren't going to cut it. To get humans we need to crack Ferelden politics. Ergo, Arl Eamon and the Ashes of Holy Dead Girl."

"It's called the Urn of Sacred Ashes," said Leliana.

"Yeah, er, that one," Bob said. "Happy, Sten? Plan explained."

"It seems an unusually longwinded one."

"Thank you. I'm rather proud of it, even if I do say so myself."

"For your own good, I will assume that that was meant in an ironic manner, or your mind is even simpler than I thought. But this plan is still foolish. I am taking command."

SacredBob stopped. He turned around slowly. "You what?"

"Exciting," mumbled Morrigan, who was currently a rather fetching shade of blue. "Do go ahead and leave us standing in the snow, why ever not?"

"I am taking command," Sten repeated. "Defend yourself, Warden. We will settle this."

"There's no need to fight," said Leliana, walking up to Sten. Her boots crunched through the thick snow. "This can all be settled peacefully. Why don't we talk about it a bit more?"

"We have," Sten told her. He unsheathed his sword.

"Sten, there is no sense in fighting!" Leliana said, a little more desperately. "We are working together against the Blight. We should not be attacking a Grey Warden!"

"Leliana, get out of the way," said SacredBob. "I am as sick and tired of this Maker-forsaken place as you are, and if I get to teach you a lesson while I warm up my frozen-solid armpits, so much the better. Of course, I kinda have to wonder why you chose to rise up to the challenge halfway up the bloody mountain instead of when we set off on this quest, but yeah, doesn't matter. FlowerPower!"

It was probably to Sten's credit that he did not even think about sniggering at the dog's name. It was also to his credit that he did not utter a single grunt of surprise or agony when the dog leapt into his stomach and brought him crashing to the ground. Leliana and Morrigan looked on, Leliana's expression being just slightly more worried than Morrigan's.

"Nice one, FlowerPower," SacredBob said. "Y'see, the other main difference between us is that not only can my vulgar insinuations about your mother kick your ass, so can my pet dog. If you want me to add in a few more literal ass-kickings from my dented metal boot, you just gotta say the word..."

Xox

"I don't think we should be breaking into these houses," said Leliana, looking around for any suspiscious watchers.

"Nonsense!" said Bob cheerfully as he shouldered the door open. "Besides, you're the one with the crazy lockpicking skills. How'd a Chantry sister like you learn that kind of stuff, anyway?"

"I was a travelling minstrel before I came to the Chantry," Leliana said. "I picked up many useful talents that way."

"A soundly believable story," said Morrigan. She sniffed. "There is a strange smell here-"

"-probably coming from this wonderfully bloody table over here," said Bob.

"Ah," Morrigan said. The four of them stared at the object. FlowerPower licked a corner, whined, and spat it out again.

"Perhaps this is a traditional Ferelden activity," Sten said, watching the blood drip slowly to the floor.

"Yes. You know, I often like to have blood pancakes for breakfast and spill the blood sauce all over the the table just because I feel like it."

"Is it impossible for anything serious to come out of your mouth?" said Morrigan. "'Twas infuriating enough to travel with those mentally-challenged elves, but I did not realise the alternative was so much worse!"

"There are people outside," said Leliana, before Bob could open his mouth and cause Morrigan to explode. "I think they're looking for a fight..."

"What? Egads, not _another_ one."

Xox

"Stop, in the name of the law!" said SacredBob, sword and shield both raised in what was hopefully a theatrically inspiring pose. The priest and his congregation turned to look. None of them seemed particularly impressed.

The priest coughed. "I understand that you are new here, but common courtesy dictates that one shouldn't interrupt. No matter. We were just about done here anyway."

"But we haven't sung-" started a voice.

"Guys!" Bob called over his shoulder. "Where'd you go?"

"We were defending your back from murderous strangers, as you cannot seem to do it yourself," said Morrigan testily. "What is it you want now?"

"All clear," said Leliana, coming up behind her and causing a small traffic jam as the villagers struggled to file past her. "What are you doing in the Chantry? Did you interrupt the sermon?"

"Er..."

"It needed interrupting," said Morrigan decisively. "Who is this dressed-up Chantry-servant?"

"I am Father Eirik. I did hear that there was an outsider in Haven – I trust you are enjoying your visit?"

"Er, yeah. It's a wonderfully picturesque little village," Bob said. "How much is a house here? I was thinking of buying a holiday home here, you know. Do the bloodstained altars come with it, or do I have to get my own?"

"Strangers. They have no respect for our privacy," the priest said to the two men standing ominously beside him. "This is why we do not let outsiders into our village. What business did you think you had here?"

"Gosh, that's not a very modern attitude, is it? If _we_ hadn't embraced the tourist trade up in Highever, we'd never have been able to afford those new toilets! Very state of the art, them. To think, not even that Orlesian lady down in Redcliffe has one in her castle! Although I suppose there are many other things she doesn't have, such as cheese-wheels, potato salad an-"

"Warden," said Sten threateningly.

Bob jumped. "Er, yes. Satinalia misadventures aside, what is with this village? Something you're not telling us about?"

"We should not have to tolerate unwanted strangers breaking into our homes," said Eirik, who had been completely bewildered by SacredBob's ramblings but had since snapped back to the task at hand. "Brothers, you know what must be done."

"You guys are just asking to be slaughtered, you know right?" muttered Bob as he quickly impaled one 'brother' and hit another upside the head with his shield. "FlowerPower, rip his throat out."

"No!" said Leliana. "We've murdered enough people in this village – and we still need to know where Brother Genitivi is." The gravity of her words was slightly spoilt by the fact that she had just fired an arrow into a man's face.

FlowerPower, sitting on Father Eirik's chest, looked questioningly at SacredBob.

"Just go ahead and get him, boy," said Bob. "I've had enough of idiots trying to off us."

Leliana was not happy, but she decided not to challenge him.

Xox

It was a rather amazing stroke of luck, the group reflected. Not only had Brother Genitivi been right in the (secret) room next door, he also claimed to know exactly where the Urn was. For something that was basically the stuff of legend, it was quite a claim. All they had to do was climb yet another mountain, open the door to a secret temple, and... something. SacredBob wasn't quite sure what came after the door-opening. All that he had made out so far had been a lot of snow, a few more mad villagers and a feeling of lost confusion.

"So what was all that stuff with you and Alistair then?" said SacredBob in-between sword strokes. In retrospect, it may not have been the best time to ask. Leliana had just been bowled over by a club-wielding maniac, and subsequently given a nice layer of frosting by a mage now laughing enthusiastically towards the ceiling.

"It was a misunderstanding," said Leliana when she had thawed and sent an arrow into the giggling mage's left eye.

"Over...?"

"Stop your talking and fight!" said Morrigan, shooting a jet of flame barely past his ear.

"Lighten up, won't you? I'm just trying to make conversation, sweetcheeks!"

He was unable to hear the answer – if one came – however, because it seemed that Morrigan had finally lost patience with Bob's refusal to fight seriously in battle. There was a sudden terrible cold, so sudden and so terrible that it was very much perceivable even through his numbed skin, and then... that was it. He was stuck.

There were some things that no-one ever told you about being frozen solid. The description, 'you will be turned into a curiously person-shaped block of ice with some flesh-flavoured impurities', while accurate, did not really give you the whole agonising picture. Bones breaking as some idiot elbows you and snaps off a thumb? Check. Eyeballs pierced by multiple crystals of rapidly forming ice as your body turns into an ice cube? Check. Even though health poultices _could_, amazingly enough, reattatch your whole lower body if someone had sliced it off, and even though there _was_ some sort of strange rule of magic that injuries of magical causes somehow disappear as soon as the spell evaporates, it didn't exactly lessen the horror of being turned into a winter lawn ornament.

But there was one thing still worse than all of that, and it was flying towards his face in slow motion.

_Holy shi-_

Xox

"Oh... Maker... ow," said SacredBob, clutching a nearby statue and trying to get onto his feet.

"You should rest for a while," Leliana said. She gently helped him lie down again. "You need it."

Bob, having just been smashed into little icy pieces by Sten's terribly heavy sword, had to agree. Even so, his burning desire to beat the living crap out of Morrigan and Sten was proving hard to fight. FlowerPower licked his face joyfully and forced him to stay put.

"Thanks..." he mumbled. _Those bastards!_

"You're welcome. Do you need another poultice?"

Bob thought about it. His body felt like it had just been stabbed through with two dozen dirty knives and then passed through an ogre's digestive system. Not that he would know what an ogre's ass really tasted like, but this had to come somewhere close. "... yes ..."

Leliana fussed over him, putting herbs and pastes in various places and shooing FlowerPower when he tried to lick them straight off. "FlowerPower and I managed to talk them out of leaving you there to die. It was lucky that I got to you when I did, with you all in pieces... quite miraculous, really."

FlowerPower stopped mid-lick and growled in a way that conveyed his meaning of "And by talk, we mean 'knock Morrigan out cold and threaten to turn Sten's crotch into mincemeat'," perfectly.

_Miraculous_ really was the word for it, Bob mused in between idiot-party-member-thoughts. He'd have to ask someone what was really in these little pots labelled "Lesser Injury Kit" and "Greater Health Poultice". It wasn't everyday that you managed to stick bits of a person together like a three-dimensional jigsaw puzzle and have them come straight back to conscious life in fighting-fit condition.

Well, perhaps not fighting-fit _just_ yet. He closed his eyes and tried to ignore the curious sensation of two thousand different hairline fractures squeaking agonisingly in his bones.

"Er... so what did I miss?" he said after most of the pain had left him (i.e. quite a while).

Leliana looked at him with wide-eyed concern (although there seemed to be some question about a certain dwarf ex-princess and her bastard prince nagging deep down in her brain – well, Bob was simply too angry to deal with that right now). "Morrigan claims to have honestly made a mistake and accidentally caught you with her spell, and Sten claims to still want to usurp your command. But I don't think they were willingly working together, from what I can tell. Are you sure you are alright?"

Bob coughed. "Morrigan made a mistake, huh? Yeah, sure... And he already tried that! What's his problem?"

"Well, you didn't exactly win a fair duel... he says using a dog is cheating," said Leliana, getting up. "Can you stand yet?"

Xox

"Do you want me to do The Speech or something?" said Bob furiously once Morrigan had been brought back to consciousness. "Because Kalamari told me that she's already given it to you two. So I don't even know what the hell you guys were doing, trying a mutiny _again_. Slow learners, much?"

"Then end this now, Warden," Sten said, taking out his sword and deciding not to ask what 'hell' was. "We will see who is the real leader here."

"Seriously? You'll get back in line like _that_-" he snapped his fingers, "-if I just beat you up nicely enough?"

"Yes," said Sten, and lunged for him with the sword.

"Awesome," Bob said.

Xox

It was a pity, Bob thought. He did in fact have his rendition of The Speech perfectly prepared. Well, perhaps not _perfectly_ prepared, but he definitely had had some good ideas on what was going to be in it. There was certainly going to be a "Seriously, guys, I've taken in every one of your opinions, suggestions and ideas, and I've come to the conclusion that I honestly – pause – don't – pause – care," somewhere in there (and perhaps it wasn't _strictly_ true – he supposed he did care a little bit, it was just that he cared about his own opinions more). And he would have some sort of variation on the theme of, "You can go ahead and hack off my head now, and that's all fine and dandy, because I don't really care so much. But FlowerPower here is going to crush your windpipe as soon as he sees you raise your sword or you open your mouth to get a spell out, and if you manage to survive that, well, you can bet your ass that the other six Wardens are going to want your stomachs strung up on clotheslines." It needed some fixing up, though, because the first sentence seemed to be a bit too close to the truth that SacredBob would have liked. And he wasn't so sure that some of the other Wardens, say, Cel and Tim, would be much disposed to care about his demise. Perhaps a mention of, "To be quite honest, I think this whole Urn-searching quest is a great big waste of time, but now that I've – albeit with the nonsensical persuadings of Tim – decided on doing it, I'll be damned if I'm not going to at least die trying and by the Maker I'll be _taking you with me_."

But it was all a moot point, because he'd just walloped Sten extremely hard on the head and the qunari had gone down like a proverbial stone.

**to be continued...**

_A/N: They were going to at the very least reach the Gauntlet this chapter, but then it just got longer and longer... Since this group is the least Warden-filled of them all, it's either going to be the most boring or the most tolerable, depending on your opinions of the PCs - and the 'most boring' factor was the reason why I wanted to do the whole Urn trip in just one chapter. Sadly, I couldn't do it. This probably speaks very badly of my editing skills._  
_- it is an unspoken rule that in every DA epic, the PC will have one Majorly Angry Breakdown somewhere in it and give a Bloody Angry Speech. Tim and Kalamari have already had theirs. Cel probably has one going on constantly.  
- double digits woot! En plus, I have reached 104 pages in Word! Next chapter will probably take it up to 50 000 words. Three chapters in just over a week - I think this has to be a record for me.  
_


	11. In which we meet Shale

**Part XI  
**_Kalamari has moral issues, but we get to meet Shale at last._

**Xox**_  
_

Hosomaki's face was scrunched up in all the ways it was possible for a face to be scrunched up, but especially those of agonised decision-making.

"And I never, ever, ever, never, ever want to see you again," he told Jowan. "Never ever. Just... go."

"Thanks, Hosomaki," said Jowan, breathing a sigh of relief and oh-my-Maker-he-finally-opened-it-jubilation. He hugged the elf. "And, for what it's worth, I'm sorry I let you down."

"Jowanyouidiotwhy'dyouhavetobesuchaprat?" said Hosomaki into Jowan's shoulder. He was getting a little bit tearful. "... goodbye."

Jowan decided not to answer that. It would just make the situation worse. "Bye, Hosomaki."

"Bye."

"By- no, don't do the sad eyes!"

"Oh, just hurry up and get out of here before I start crying again!"

Xox

" 'Step one," Kalamari read. "Here, have a stick. Dulef gar. Step two. Go to Honnleath and dot dot dot. Have fun!' Who wrote this thing?"

"Doolef jar? Dot dot dot?" said Hosomaki.

"That's what it says," Kalamari told him. She peered at the bottom of the piece of parchment. "Signed, SacredBob Cousland. Oh. Okay! So Team Elf is off to Honnleath! Let's go, team!"

Zevran raised his eyebrows at the name, but decided not to comment. He supposed there were worse things one could do in life than travel with a group of mad slaughter-happy elves, even if they did have to advertise a quite frankly embarrassing team name. However...

"Do you know why _we_ are going to Honnleath?" he said a few minutes into the journey.

"To be quite honest, no," said Hosomaki. "I'm sure Kala knows what she's doing, though..."

"Really?" said Zevran, who really wasn't very sure. "You are also a Grey Warden, no? Shouldn't you also be in the know, as it were, with these plans?"

Hosomaki looked a little worried. "Should I? It's just that Bob and Tim seem to have everything under control, and I really didn't want to bother them... and then there was this girl in the tavern..."

"Ah, so we are just along for the ride. And pretty barmaids, of course, where we find them."

"... well, if you want to put it that way. So where did Kala pick you up, anyway?"

As Zevran was explaining the intricacies of Antivan assassination, a small distance ahead Kalamari was attempting to introduce Cel to the politics of arranged marriages and various other Alienage facts.

"-so if I _hadn't_ got kidnapped, then I wouldn't be here right now!"

"So you're happy," Cel said.

"Uh, I wouldn't go as far as to say that," said Kalamari carefully. "Of course I wish that it had never happened - two dead and my cousin was, uh... and, okay, I would rather be in a nice stable job as a housemaid than all this blood here. But I do look on the bright side! It's been quite fun, actually."

"I liked it better when I was Dalish. I hate... this," said Cel, glaring moodily at her feet.

"But you _are_ Dalish!"

"I got kicked out," Cel muttered.

"What?"

"Really."

"Are you sure? What did they say to you? Explain!"

They walked on silence with nothing but the sound of Hosomaki detailing his 'exploits' in the Circle Tower to Zevran. Five minutes passed, and Cel noticed that Kalamari was still looking at her with an expectant expression.

"Well?" said Kalamari, poking her.

"There were these ruins and Tamlen," started Cel, and then she stopped because Hosomaki had stopped too, and had joined in with Zevran with the whole looking-at-her-expectantly thing. "_What?"_

"Oh, don't mind me," said Zevran. "I'm simply interested in what you have to say, since for such a lovely woman you do speak so rarely." Hosomaki nodded vigorously. It was also true that Cel's hoarse and broken voice was easily the most recognisable of the whole lot of Grey Wardens and their associated allies, and that everyone's attention was turned immediately on her should she choose to use it. Nevertheless, Hosomaki felt it would be untactful to say that.

"Lovely, huh," said Cel, not looking (with her current glowering expression, at least) or sounding lovely in the least. "There were these ruins, and I dragged Tamlen inside. There was a mirror, stuff happened and the clan gave me away to Duncan."

"That can't be all," said Kalamari. "What mirror?"

"Some darkspawn piece of shit, I dunno. They said it tainted us."

"So... you got the darkspawn taint already then? But, but surely then Duncan was only trying to help you! ... I think. But they must have loved you! I've heard all sorts of stories about the Dalish, you know, and the taint..."- Cel tried to say something, but Kalamari had launched into another grand speech of True Love and there was no stopping her.

"I suppose we're to just wait it out, then," said Zevran, cheerfully turning back to Hosomaki and tuning out Kalamari's voice. "So tell me more about this Amell..."

Xox

"... so there's really no need to feel so bad about it! Besides, once we kill the big old Archdemon, I'm sure they'd love to have you back. See?"

"Uh huh." Cel wasn't quite sure what she was agreeing to, but Kalamari had stopped talking and the only time she did that was when she expected Cel to say something in reply.

"You're not even listening!" Kalamari said, waving a hand in front of her face. "But it's okay. Did you say something about a Tamlen? Who was that?"

"Guhhh," said Cel. "Someone I knew. And shut up."

Kalamari had opened her mouth to start on another speech of True Love (or at the very least, True Friendship), but was silenced by Cel's pre-emptive strike. She closed it. Then she opened it again. "What happened to him?"

Hosomaki, having previously been comparing 'interesting library encounters' (the quotation marks around that phrase were so obvious that Zevran was somewhat surprised that the other elf had refrained from actually making the corresponding finger gestures while talking) and discussing the uses of rope in a nighttime setting with Zevran, had gone suspiciously silent. In fact, so had Zevran. Cel turned around.

"This is a private conversation," she growled at the two male elves. "Stop. Eavesdropping. And. Piss. Off."

"Oh, do try to be nice," said Hosomaki. Cel gave him a look that was so withering that it metaphorically withered him to the contents of his stomach. Hosomaki squeaked a bit.

"Ah, don't mind us," said Zevran, smirking slightly in the face of Cel's glare. "We _are_ a team, yes?"

Cel didn't bother to answer that one.

Xox

Cel was adamantly refusing to open her mouth for anything other than a sip of water, so Kalamari had reluctantly moved on to chatting with the other two of the group. Zevran had just finished telling an amusing tale of how a he had been chased nude across a ship by pirate's not-quite-so-pirate-like husband for sleeping with her, and Hosomaki was about to start one about the girls' bathroom in the apprentice quarters. They were disappointed in that, however, because they had just arrived in Honnleath and there were darkspawn.

"Why did they tell us to come here?" wondered Hosomaki once Cel had dispatched them all in a whirling column of flashing blades. "Surely this village must have been massacred if there are already darkspawn swarming out here."

"I don't know," said Kalamari. She took out the stone rod and the note wrapped around it. "I suppose these must do something – we'll go further in and look for anything unusual."

A few dead genlocks and a basket of bird seed later, Kalamari stopped by a stone statue. She thought she might be onto something, since the stick Bob had given her was made out of the same strangely sparkling stone...

Still, even with Zevran reading out the instructions (if "Step two. Go to Honnleath and dot dot dot," counted as an instruction, that is) in his smoothest Antivan accent, Kalamari simply could not figure out what to do with the thing.

"Come on," said Cel impatiently. She threw down a runt of a genlock that had been impaled on one of her daggers and kicked its face. "There's more where those came from."

"Perhaps we can find the answer to this puzzle elsewhere," said Zevran, passing the note back to Kalamari.

"Okay," Kalamari said. "We can always come back here afterward we're done, right?"

Xox

The strangely large cellar, like the rest of the village, was filled with darkspawn. Hosomaki wasn't quite sure _how_ he had managed to pick the right door out of the hundred here to go through, but if his uncanny intuition led them to the Honnleath hideout and got them a nice rescue for the villagers, he couldn't really complain. Unfortunately Kalamari had to spend a few patient minutes explaining to Cel why she was not allowed to kill the villagers once the barrier had gone down, which lessened the yay-good-deeds mood for her a little.

"You mean that statue outside's a _golem_?" said Hosomaki. "Well, how do we use it?"

"What's a golem?" said Kalamari.

"Um... it's something big and stony and probably useful," Hosomaki said, who didn't really know what a golem was either, but since it seemed to be the only way to proceed with this quest he reasoned that it must be a good thing to bring back to life.

"It killed its old master, my father," said the man. "I don't know why you came here with its control rod, but it's a danger to us all. You... My father deserved better than that. But if you really want to wake Shale up... well, I guess it's yours now."

"So how do we use it?" said Hosomaki.

"The command phrase," said the man. "I can tell you the words... but there's one thing you need to do for me first! My daughter-"

He stopped, because Cel was behind him with a specialised throat-slitting knife held exactly where it was designed to be held.

"No, we'll help," said Kalamari firmly.

Xox

"It's a talking cat! That is so cool!" squealed Kalamari.

"No!" cried Hosomaki, springing forward to stop Kalamari from petting the creature. "It's a demon!"

"Huh?"

"Perhaps the purple glowing eyes give it away," said Zevran.

"Huh?" said Kalamari, still not getting it.

"It's going to kill you! Or possess you! Or... other bad things!" said Hosomaki. "You can't _talk_ to them!"

"But... why not?"

"Demons are just bad!"

"Please," said the cat. "There is no need to argue. Why don't you listen to what I have to say?"

"Oh, are you speaking to them, Kitty?" said the girl. Kalamari pursed her lips. Yep, the girl was a bit creepy. Little girls were often creepy.

"Go ahead," said Zevran, once it was clear that Kalamari was too busy thinking about racism towards demons and horror stories to give the talking cat an answer.

"You see, Amalia loves me now. There is nothing you can do that will take her away from me. But I have been trapped here for too long – I yearn to be free, and you can help me. There is-"

THUNK-UNK.

Two daggers had sunk into the startled demon's flesh – three of the elves turned to see Cel taking two more from her belt and cocking them to throw.

"How entertaining," said Zevran, and quickly beheaded the cat. Another two daggers thudded into its now-headless body, a girl screamed, and he quickly stepped away from the knife-throwing target range. There was a brief flash of light, and then instead of a cat's body, a purple _thing_ was lying on the floor. Zevran looked at the demon's head in his hands, smirked briefly, and then kicked it away.

"Oh," Kalamari said, and stopped. She closed her mouth, and looked down at the demon's body. Then she tried again. "... kay. There is so much wrong here that... I don't know what to say."

"Amalia?" said Hosomaki worriedly. The girl was making a sound that was halfway between gulping and sniffing, and in between those, staring wildly around like a madwoman. "I'm sorry you had to see that. Did she hurt you?"

Kalamari shook her head. "You've- you've traumatised her for life! You've scarred her memories! You just beheaded her beloved kitty!"

"Demon!" Hosomaki said. He patted the girl's shoulder and handed her a handkerchief. "Now, let's go and find your daddy, shall we?"

Xox

"Well, at least you've fulfilled your dreams of viciously murdering a practically naked lady in the bottom of a cellar," said Kalamari moodily to Cel as they climbed up the ladder.

"Kala, it was a demon! It was going to possess Amalia, I know it! The Mage's Tower..." Hosomaki paused and swallowed. "You can't listen to anything they say. Haven't you heard of demons at _all_? Zevran, Cel, tell her!"

"Oh, I rather enjoy watching you do that," said Zevran, with the expression of a particularly satisfied theatre-goer.

Hosomaki gave him his patented Sad Eyes (TM).

"... Your friend was in the right," Zevran said. "Demons are tricky creatures. Had we not dealt with her, she would undoubtedly have taken the girl for herself. I have had the misfortune of meeting a couple, when I was sent to assassinate the mage's butler's lemon gardener... and I can tell you many stories from others, too."

The Sad Eyes (TM) were a rather useful trick. Hosomaki gave himself a mental pat on the back and looked at Cel.

"The one time I help a shem, you're not happy with me," mumbled Cel after a few minutes. (Even _she_ was not entirely immune to Hosomaki's persuasions, even if the persuasions had to be kept at impossibly high powers and then some, and even if Hosomaki's eyes were in agony afterwards. He quickly cast a small healing spell and felt much better. Zevran noticed, and sniggered quietly.)

"What?" said Kalamari. They had reached the statue – golem – and she was now searching her pack for the so-called 'control rod'.

"The only thing worse than a shem is a demon," said Cel, still mostly mumbling because by the Creators, admitting that she'd just saved a shem's life was _embarrassing_. She would have remedied that problem, but the rest of her daggers weren't really for throwing, and after all she'd seen Morrigan do she wasn't ready to throw herself headlong into Hosomaki standing protectively beside the shem child...

Kalamari sighed. "Okay. But I just think it's a bit, well, _racist_ to kill demons just because they're demons! Uh, not that killing humans isn't racist... but at least Hosomaki and Zevran agree with me on that one, and I'm going to attribute some of that to cultural bias. And darkspawn."

"But darkspawn are tainted," said Hosomaki. "They kind of have to be killed."

"But it's like killing lepers just because they're lepers! That's a bit tainted, isn't it?"

"But leprosy doesn't want to wake up an Archdemon and destroy the world!"

"But they wear clothes and have leaders and they must be able to communicate and that's basically _people_!"

"Stop saying 'but'!"

"But you're saying it too!" Kalamari tried to calm down. "The point is that what if they just want somewhere to live and we just keep killing them? Not that that's really true... I think... but what if? We always kill them on sight! And anyway, that demon didn't have the taint, and nor did those demon trees in the wood – that rhyming one actually helped us! And same with Witherfang. Wait, was she a demon?"

"But they always kill us on sight," said Hososmaki reasonably. "Demons are bad because they're bad spirits. It's what they are."

"Oh," said Kalamari. "Well, if that's the definition... But how did you know the kitty was a demon then?"

"She was a practically naked purple lady...?"

"So was the Lady of the Forest!"

"Yes," said Hosomaki who seemed to vaguely remember through someone else's memories who the Lady was, "but..."

"They're both dead," growled a voice behind them, "so shut the hell up and do the statue!" Hosomaki and Kalamari yelped and jumped in opposite directions as Cel de-stealthed herself with two axes held in a rather threatening position between them.

"Okay," said Kalamari, sighing. "And... dulen harn. Wakey wakey!"

There was another sigh. Kalamari looked at Hosomaki, who looked at Zevran, who looked right back at her. Then she looked at the statue.

"I knew that the day would come when someone would find the control rod. And not even a mage, this time. Probably stumbled across the rod by accident, I suppose. Typical." To Kalamari's surprise, the golem's voice was surprisingly... smooth. And androgynous. She'd been expecting something a little more rough, a little more like Cel's, perhaps, and did statues even _have_ genders? Well, it was certainly booming enough for Kalamari's expectations, at least.

"Hey!" said Hosomaki. "I _am_ a mage!"

The golem turned its head. Hosomaki noticed with some interest that the action was rather like a door handle turning – _obviously_, he thought, because _rock would be rather hard to stretch like skin_. "Ah. What a pleasant surprise. Thirty years I've stood in this spot, watching the little villagers scurry around me like flies on a pigeon, and here is another mage with its control rod ready for the ordering."

"Thirty years?" said Hosomaki, eyes wide.

"It seems surprised. Thirty years, and I was just beginning to get used to the quiet." The golem sighed again and turned back to Kalamari. "It – or the other ones – does have the control rod, doesn't it? I do not feel..."

"_Thirty years_?" said Hosomaki again, as Kalamari nodded and waved the rod in front of the golem's face.

"Is it deaf, or simply stupid?" said the golem, seeming to muse upon this question. It looked up again. "Perhaps both," it said when Hosomaki had not answered. "Well, go on then. Order me to do something."

"Um... I'm not comfortable with ordering people," said Kalamari. "I mean, I'm an elf, and we're usually on the receiving end... and I have to say that a lot of us are protesting against that as well!"

"You ordered us around in the werewolf's dumpsite," Cel said. The golem looked at her – and Zevran, who seemed content to watch the proceedings with a raised eyebrow – as if taking them in for the first time (which may have been true, really).

"A wandering group of elves?" it said. "An interesting sight, I must admit. Nothing like _that_ ever happened here in the last thirty years."

"It's quite cool actually!" Kalamari said. "See, I'm from Denerim, Cel's Dalish, Zevran's Antivan and Hosomaki's a mage! It's like a mixed bag of... elves."

"I cannot say I share in its amusement," said the golem. "Perhaps one of its less irritating friends could give me an order."

"Fine," said Kalamari, glaring at it. "Uh, go and kiss Zevran."

Zevran looked a little taken aback. He also stepped (a)back. "Well, this will be a conquest for the records, I'm sure. If I survive it, that is."

"It holds the control rod, and yet I... I feel no compulsion. Thankfully," it added.

"Ah, now, if I were a sensitive man then I might take offence at that."

"So," said Kalamari, mostly to stop the golem and Zevran descending into a full-scale snarking bout, "what do you want to do, um, Mr Golem?"

"My name is Shale," said Shale. "If I cannot be commanded, then... I must have free will? I do not know what I should do. I have no memories before this village, or of ever having such a choice before..."

"You could come with us," said Hosomaki. "And then when you find something you want to do, you can go and do that. How about it?"

"And what is it going to do on its journey?"

"Killing darkspawn, mostly," said Kalamari. "It's all very messy, but we do need to stop the Blight... Grey Wardens, you see."

"These darkspawn are the creatures that destroyed this village, correct? Yes, I see they are an evil, and must be stopped. Though these pigeons are more so – damnable creatures!"

"Pigeons?" Hosomaki said.

"Feathered fiends," said Shale. It looked at Kalamari. "I suppose I will go with it for now. Lead the way."

Xox

"So what is next on our list?" said Zevran. "I can only assume that Shale is the reason SacredBob sent us here, and there is a small mountain of letters that we were told to answer."

"Ostagar... I think," said Kalamari, hands crammed to maximum capacity with the aforementioned small mountain. A few pieces of parchment fluttered to the ground. "Gah! Donkeynuts! Here, hold this, thanks! It's... yes, Ostagar, or we can find this Levi Dryden back at today's campsite, but apparently Ostagar's closer to wherever he's taking us. Oh, and there's this thing about Amgarrak, but that's something to do with Orzammar and the underground, so he told me not to bother with that since Tim and Billybob'll be there. Then we can go to Denerim."

"Ostagar? But why?" Hosomaki said. He might have had an unfortunate bout of traumatic amnesia, but he did have a vague recollection of Chasind trails and the worst drinking session of his life. "And... oh! So that's who that stranger with the exclamation mark in our camp was!"

"Yes... Bob says that he'll probably follow us around forever, so we'd better get into his good graces."

"I'm sorry; did you say 'with the exclamation mark'?" said Zevran.

"Yes," Hosomaki said confidently, even if he wasn't quite sure why he was so confident that there was an undetectable and imperceptible exclamation mark over the man's head. There just _was_. Like how the door to the village hideout today just _was_ the right door to go through. "I did speak to him last night, but after giving me some new Codex entries he just kept trying to make me spend some 'biological points' or something whenever I offered to help him..."

Kalamari and Zevran looked at each other, and silently agreed not to ask.

Xox

Some way behind the three rather confused elves, Cel was relaxing by sharpening not one but two knives at the same time and laughing in a quietly maniacal way as she walked. Shale, beside her, had noticed a Great Evil on the side of the road.

There was a small 'splurt' as the chicken was squashed. Cel, the resident expert on Gruesome Methods Of Murder, snapped round immediately to see who had just been turned into jelly.

"You killed a chicken?" she said, noticing the white feathers on Shale's foot.

"It has a problem with ridding the world of these pests?"

"A problem?" Cel laughed (it sounded a little like a toolbox coughing) and fumbled in her bag for a bow. "Yeah, no. Make it a competition." Kalamari couldn't blame her for being friendly, could she? It was all for a good cause, really. She strung an arrow, squinted, and fired. Something squawked.

"One all," Shale rumbled, and decided it rather liked this elf.

**to be continued...**

_A/N: _  
_- I just found out while writing this that Word automatically corrects "genlock" to "gunlock", so if you see any gunlocks elsewhere in this fic, that's why._  
_- I'm halfway through the Witch Hunt DLC - after spending no less than SEVEN HOURS downloading it - and I'm loving it so far. The Anders references made my day (well, night). Have you guys downloaded it?_  
_- Cel is Dalish, so she must be a pretty skilled archer... I just forgot to ever make her use her bow. Plus in-game she never ever does archery, so it's all very true to the game. Anyway, she prefers getting down and dirty with the stabbing and the hacking, because that's just so much more fun than twanging a string from ten metres away.  
- And completely off-topic, this week I started my very first art commission. How cool is it to get _paid _to do a hobby you love? (Even if I let him get away with asking me for cheapskate prices... but it's my first time, I just need the experience, right?)*is happy*_


	12. In which we reach Orzammar

_A/N: I feel obliged to warn you that I don't think this Part is particularly amusing. I'm tired and I think I need sleep..._

**Part XII**

**Xox  
**

The road to Orzammar was long and arduous – not to mention extremely boring. Wynne was admittedly quite glad not to have been pushed into leading the group this time. Tim seemed to have that all under control.

"I don't trust little Miss Aeducan," grumbled the dwarf stomping along beside her. He had been in a foul mood ever since "little Miss Aeducan" had announced that he was to go to Orzammar with her, although Wynne had not yet had a chance to talk to him about it. Tim or Alistair or both of them at once had always kept asking her for socks, or starting up friendly conversations about fashions in mage hats, or theorising on the alleged role of griffons in influencing the public's perception of the Grey Wardens and the long-term effects of mounted flight on apparent reputation with especial note made of the dwarven attitudes to altitude and the potential effect on human society today, etc. (Neither Wynne nor Alistair had had very much to contribute to that discussion.) "She's probably got some royally stupid plan stuck up her ass with all this. I bet you."

"You've been grumpy the whole morning," said Wynne. "Why is that?"

"That spoiled princess thinks she can drag me back to that dunghole? It makes me angry just thinking about her... if we're even headed in the right direction, that is. She's probably got us all lost and hasn't got the face to admit it."

"She doesn't seem so bad when I talked with her," Wynne said carefully. "But don't you also have a map? I'm sure I saw you with one earlier."

"... yeah, but it's all confusing, you know." Billybob looked mildly embarrassed. Well, it wasn't his fault! He'd never used a map back in Dust Town. "But yeah! She's a _noble_. You don't know what they're like, those Orzammar nobles up in their snooty Diamond Quarter."

"We had a very friendly conversation – are you sure you're not being too bitter? She can't help her class, you realise."

Billybob snorted. "Look, she can put on a nice face when she wants to, alright? She's got the whole of Orzammar 'cept us casteless eating out of her hand. You can't just go around _trusting_ her. That Alistair, well, I dunno what she plans to do with him but I'll lick my own ass if it's... if it's what it... looks like. Huh."

"But they do seem very happy together. I don't think your feelings about the nobility should cloud your view of our party, Billybob."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Don't say I didn't warn you, alright? Those big guys at the top... they lie all the time, and you shouldn't trust them. Ever."

"I'll remember that." Wynne sighed. "I can see that she _is _very good at talking. But surely that shouldn't put you in such a foul mood? Is there something else?"

"Yeah. Orzammar. Last place I ever want to see again, and that's saying something considering the amount of darkspawn waiting to be killed down there."

"But you lived there for many years; surely there are things you miss?"

Billybob thought about this for a moment. "I guess there's one person. And that's it."

Xox

There was only one downside to playing nice with your teammates, and that was the massive amount of sheer bloody annoyance it inflicted upon you. This was not usually any problem for Tim Aeducan, since her trusty Gorim had always been there for a few rounds of angry ranting when she had needed it. Unfortunately, her trusty Gorim was not here. And it was a long way to Orzammar.

Not that being back home would help, she thought. It wasn't like there was anyone _there_ she could talk to, what with Gorim exiled and all. Still, at least the whole web of backstabbing aristocrats would be something nice and familiar. Dealing with such unsuspecting – and yet maddeningly endearing – people like Alistair was probably taking a toll on her own mental acuity.

"Are you alright? You haven't said anything for the last two hours."

She scowled. Then she took a deep breath. "No, I am not alright! And if one of you brainless idiots so much as looks at me again I will make sure you, your mother and your little dog too are not alright either! So be quiet!"

Alistair was quiet. For a moment, at least. "... sorry."

Tim let out the rest of her deep breath, and took in another one. She let that one out too. "Please don't be. I am just a little stressed about returning to Orzammar."

"Oh," said Alistair, looking rather like a sheep belatedly noticing an incoming fireball spell and wishing that he knew a bit more about women and the right things to say to them. "Well, I know I'll probably be a brainless idiot for the rest of my days, so I'll have to give you a long-term apology in advance for that. Do you... er, do you want to talk about it?"

"No, not really," said Tim truthfully. "You're not a brainless idiot – not all the time, I suppose – and you must know that Orzammar is a... _dangerous_ place to be. Perhaps we will meet my brother there."

"Oh, you have siblings? What are they like?"

"One deceased older brother, and a scheming bastard of a younger one. I suppose I look forward to seeing him again," _to make arrangements for his funeral_, she added mentally. _We'll see who's the real scheming bastard in the end._

Alistair really didn't know what to say to that one.

Xox

"Home, sweet home," said Billybob.

"Was that sarcasm?" said Tim, glancing at him. "I would have thought you'd be grateful to return here."

"You might be, princess. But you've got the wrong idea about me."

"I see," Tim said, not even trying to put on a nice face for that one. She turned a full-power glare onto him. "I advise you not to go running off. I want you by my side at all times during our stay here, and if you even think about turning that into some twisted form of innuendo worthy of that Cousland boy, you can wave your 'sweet home' goodbye. Is that clear?"

Billybob gaped for a moment. "Wynne! Get over here!" he called, flailing his arms about. "Tim's being nasty to me!"

"Oh, hello Wynne," said Tim, smiling pleasantly. "I hope Billybob isn't disturbing you with his little pranks..."

"No, not at all," Wynne said. "Was there something I could help with?"

"Just one thing, _your Majesty_. I want to see my sister, even if that means I have to bring you down with me to stick to your silly little ideas, Stone help me, and I'm going to see my sister. Is that clear?"

Tim considered this. On the one hand, every part of her Aeducan fibre was screaming NO (though with a subtler and much more devastating delivery). On the other hand, Wynne – and now Alistair had come over too – was watching her.

"We have business here. If there is any time left for _personal matters_," – she somehow managed to make the words sneer themselves into being – "then we shall see your sister."

"You're gonna see your family right now, business or no business. How come I have to wait around 'til I see mine?"

"Our business demands we see those in a position of power. My family happens to be in a position of power. I assure you, there is no selfishness in my wanting to see my dear brother Bhelen."

"Um, Tim, do you mind me asking what actually happened with you and your brothers?" said Alistair, uncertainly stepping into the conversation.

Tim pursed her lips. As much as she would have liked state politics to be shrouded in secrecy, she supposed word had gone around Orzammar enough times already. "My brother Trian was killed by Bhelen's men. I was framed for the murder, and forced into exile. Is that what you wanted to know?"

"Framed? Or guilty?" said Billybob. Alistair waved a hand in his direction, presumably to hush him.

"Thank you, Alistair."

Xox

If there was one thing neither Billybob nor Tim had been expected, it was to see that both their families were now entwined in some sort of horrifying double-headed union of their worst nightmares. With a baby. Well, a supposed baby said to be in the other room asleep, and true, Bhelen wasn't actually in his bedroom and so it was really just Rica there, but it was horrifying nonetheless.

"Well, at least this sorts out your argument about whose family to visit first," said Alistair awkwardly. Wynne sighed.

"I can't believe this," said the two dwarven Wardens at the same time. Then they glared at each other. At the same time.

"Billybob..." started Rica.

"What is my brother doing with this casteless whore?" said Tim. "And where is that bloody fool, anyway?"

"Shut your nuglicking face!" yelled Billybob. "Rica, is this what you meant about an important love interest?"

"Please!" said Wynne. "Tim, you have already caused more than enough arguments on the way here! Billybob, there is no need to behave in such a manner!"

"There is no need for you to show some disregard for the Wardens you follow," said Tim haughtily. Billybob spluttered.

Rica stood up. "Billybob, don't you see? This is what I've always dreamt of! Now that Bhelen has a son – your nephew – I'm a royal concubine in the house of Aeducan. Even Mother is here – can you imagine?"

Billybob shook his head. "I always thought you were aiming for Warrior, or maybe Smith Caste. Honest folks, not these noble backstabbers. And an Aeducan too!"

"You think _he's_ not worthy for _her_?" said Tim incredulously.

Alistair mumbled something that might have been, "," but the arguing dwarves ignored him.

"'Course, you lot of high and mighty nobles wouldn't agree with that, would you? Shut it, because you know bronto-shit _nothing_ about Rica, alright?"

"I want to see Bhelen," said Tim coldly. "Where is he, girl?"

"Don't talk to Ri-" started Billybob.

"I don't know, your- your Majesty. But I know he'll be back after today's Provings; he said so... he might drop in just before the event, too..." She was trembling slightly.

"Very well," said Tim. "Just one thing; tell me, girl, what stories has my brother spun of Trian's death? Or of my father's sickness? I think I shall find it very amusing."

There was a silence. As tough as living in Dust Town had made her, there was still something to be said for having an exiled princess with dried blood on her leather battle armour, scars on her stony face and two of the most vicious blades Rica had ever seen in her belt, fixing you with eyes that could probably bore through lyrium-infused silverite.

"Rica?"

"Bhelen's older siblings always hated him," said Rica, staring at Tim defiantly. "They would have tried everything to bring him down. It was only luck that he caught you red-handed killing Trian."

Tim chuckled. "Continue, please."

"He thinks you and this beastly Lord Harrowmont were conspiring to set _him_ up as the murderer. And even when your plan failed, Lord Harrowmont had the gall to whisper those lies into King Endrin's ear as he lay dying! Bhelen cried for weeks when his father believed Harrowmont and sent him away."

"What a charming story. The little detail of Bhelen crying seemed a touch unlikely, but I suppose I do have to give him a little credit for taking you in so thoroughly."

"Billybob, you mustn't believe her slander," said Rica urgently. "Bhelen is a good man."

"Enough. We are going," Tim said. She turned and strode out of the room. Alistair and Wynne looked rather unsure of what to do next.

"Rica, I'll see you soon," said Billybob.

"Billybob, he's going to help us! If he gets the crown, he's going to make it better for the casteless. He wants to improve this city, and he's not like all those other nobles who look down and hate us – he's going to make a difference. He found me, didn't he?"

"I don't know, Rica."

"Then you'll have to meet Bhelen yourself. You'll see what he's like."

Xox

"Ah, Vartag Gavorn," said Tim disdainfully. "I suppose you are still Bhelen's second?"

"So you really have returned, exile," said the dwarf. "What insult do you mean by coming back here?"

"Where is my brother?"

Vartag coughed. "I must remind you that you are an exile, and House Aeducan has struck you from its records. You have no right to call Prince Bhelen your brother."

"Yes, yes, technicalities," said Tim. "Where is he, you snivelling little worm?"

"I cannot allow anyone to see him – and certainly not you, kinslayer."

"Oh? These treaties I hold demand his attention. Even so, I am not demanding an audience. I simple wish to know of his activities."

Vartag looked at the papers in her hand. "I see, and I have nothing to say to you. These papers demand the ruler of Orzammar's attention. Unfortunate as it is, Bhelen is not yet King."

"_I _could make him King," said Tim, smiling slightly. "Won't you let me help?"

Xox

"Where're the toilets?" said Alistair.

"Dunno," said Billybob. "That Aeducan... she can talk all big about keeping me on a leash all day, and now she just runs off like a nug on fire!"

"It must be a shock for her, returning here, especially to hear that her father's died," said Wynne. "I'm sure she will be back soon."

"I hope she's alright," Alistair said. He was nervously shifting from side to side. "But I really do need to go, if you know what I mean... why didn't I think of asking your sister?"

Xox

Lady Dace should have known better than to stand outside her dwelling practically waiting to give free information to anyone who wanted it. (That is, if that anyone knew exactly which buttons to press for a good riling, and how to steer that riling towards, "It's a good thing my father's out on an expedition right now, because once he hears of this it's a fair bet that you'll be in pieces before your murderous eyes even know what's happening!") Wynne might have disapproved of all the rows Tim had ignited in the Quarter, but that was just the icing on the cake of gossip.

Pieces of news like Lady Dace's were rather nice when you found that House Dace was exactly the house needed for a token (forged-)promissory-note-reading of trust. Some instability for Harrowmont – all the better for getting him off the throne once her own name had been reinstated – but nothing that would actually tip the vote in Bhelen's favour. This was much better luck that Tim had hoped for. She dropped the note in front of the girl's nose and hurried down to the commons.

Sometimes the complete invisibility that stealth granted you felt a bit like godhood. No good having House Dace know who their mysterious benefactor was, after all, and the girl had done marvellously well by herself in running around the whole town shrieking about Harrowmont's dupe.

Down in Tapster's, Tim dropped the second note. Then she firmly told Bhelen's second that the only way she'd risk seeing the prince face to face was with her own personal bodyguards behind her.

Xox

"Oh, there you are," said Alistair with relief. (The hidden toilets had been in a hidden chamber in a hidden corridor at the end of a hidden hall. He hadn't been able to find a basin, though.) "Where have you been?"

"I was speaking to old friends," said Tim. "Is Billybob ready to leave that girl? We should see Lord Harrowmont."

"Why?"

"To offer support, of course."

"Yeah _what_? You're going to help him? After all that my sister said?" Billybob and Wynne had caught up.

"She is hardly a reliable source," said Tim. "If you trust Bhelen's words at all, aren't you a little hypocritical in your disliking for nobles?"

"... no."

"Let's at least hear what he has to say," said Alistair. "We might as well try to get the truth out."

"Yes, from me," said Tim, scowling at Billybob.

Xox

Tim had never quite grasped the true spirit of irony, but she was sure that there was something _ironic_ about this situation. Billybob was a simple fool, true, and yet he was also the only one to have any real idea about dwarven nobility.

Then again so did SacredBob, but he was also a fool. Was that irony?

And another ironic thing was this whole affair Bhelen insisted on having with this casteless girl, who just happened to be a 'fellow' Grey Warden's sister. Oh, and we mustn't forget the third ironic thing, which is that of all the ploys that Billybob might have seen through, he just had to go and turn his 'suspicious sense' onto the one story that Tim _hadn't_ spun.

Not that she was spinning very many, to be quite honest. For one thing, it was hard keeping track of exactly what not-quite-truths to tell, and for another playing with people in that way wasn't nearly as fun when the other person was too innocent to do it back to you.

"We're gonna back Bhelen," said Billybob after Lord Harrowmont's second had been sent away. Tim hadn't exactly promised to fight in the Provings, and nor had she refused, so Billybob put that idea out of head for now.

"And you speak for all of us, do you?"

"You hate him either way your story goes, and I just want to remind you that I'm a Grey Warden too. Alright?"

"Is this a voting matter now?"

Billybob turned to the humans of the party. "Look, I think all the nobles here are as bad as each other. I have no clue what the real story behind this mess is, and frankly I don't care. But since Rica's happiness is depending on one of them, I say we back that one. It's not like we've got any real info on any of them anyway. I just want my sister to be happy, and if what this guy says about the casteless is true, I'm all for him."

"Bhelen is a treacherous liar who framed me to get what he wanted," said Tim, staring him down frostily. "I have no influence in this city, and there is no more reason for me to stop Bhelen if my only thought was simple hatred. Lord Harrowmont was my father's trusted adviser and his officially favoured successor. Do the wishes of the ancestors mean nothing to you, Brosca?"

"Yeah, well, he's not _my_ ancestor!"

"Yes, because _your_ ancestors were-"

"What will happen to your sister if Bhelen does not become King?" said Wynne.

"She'll hate me forever, I guess," said Billybob. He shrugged. "Depends on what they do to him."

"But thanks to her child, she will still be a noble's concubine even if my brother is executed," said Tim. She hoped her argument was weak enough. "You have nothing to worry about."

"Oh yeah? What if he's wiped off the records like you were, huh? If your stories about him get around Orzammar, she'll be starving her kid in the Deep Roads before... eh, something quick. Do you know what they recommend for duster babies? Yeah, _that_."

"What do you think?" said Tim to Alistair and Wynne.

"Oh, er, are you looking at me?" said Alistair, backing away. "No, don't do that. I'm not good at decisions."

"This is a vote, not a decision, Alistair," said Tim. "I am fully prepared to listen to your thoughts."

"We hardly know enough to make a decision," said Wynne. "Is this Lord Harrowmont really so trusted as you say?"

"Which is basically the same as saying it all depends on whether you believe Tim or not, right?" said Billybob. "Anyway, look, he's an Aeducan. That's gotta help your standing if he's king. He'll probably be grateful enough to put the family record straight as soon as you put a crown on his head."

"So... you're saying that he'll just forget about the whole... debacle with Tim and the brother?" said Alistair, looking a little confused.

"Tim could probably _make_ him forget," muttered Billybob. "Look, Miss Aeducan, it makes sense. You're Aeducan – family first, right?"

"I... suppose I... must admit that you have a point, Brosca," said Tim. She was frowning slightly. "Of course the kinslaying I cannot forget... And Wynne and Alistair do not disagree, I suppose?"

"What? Tim, what are you saying?" said Alistair. "He killed your family to get what he wanted! Why are you supporting him now?"

"It's gonna kill _my _family if we don't support him! And you, you just said that you weren't going to give an opinion!"

"In this environment, I can't see any better plan," said Wynne.

"We will talk to Bhelen, then. But there is one thing. For this visit, at least, I ask that you let me do the speaking. This is my own brother here; I would like to speak to him first, and alone. I... I want you to stay outside."

Alistair gaped.

Xox

No-one so much as turned their head as they re-entered the royal palace.

"You'd think they'd be a lot more worried about this sort of thing, people just walking in every now and again," said Alistair as they crossed into the private quarters.

"Perhaps," said Tim, shrugging. "Nobles are not easily surprised, in any case. Much like most people on the surface, in fact, or so I've noticed... there are really not very many that look up as we pass by, are there? Now, if you could wait here...?"

She opened the door, and went in. There was a very final 'clunk' as it closed again.

"Oh, she's not getting away with it, whatever it is," said Billybob, getting into a good position against the door. He looked at the other two. "What? You're not going to listen in _at all_?"

Xox

The dwarf in the room looked up as Tim walked slowly and deliberately towards the desk.

"Well, who would have imagined... My big sister, back from the dead, and calling herself a Grey Warden."

Tim sighed. Bhelen was just as she'd remembered. "Yes, you may skip the fancy talk now, regardless of how that fool Trian liked it."

"Trian? So it looks like you still owe me a grudge for all of that; can't think why, since I'm sure you'd have done the same soon enough to me, the same as you turned the whole Assembly against Trian. Although it really would be too much for me to dwell on it, since Vartag told me you'd have your people at the door. Let's move on to what you came here for."

"Don't be an idiot, Bhelen. I keep my company loyal to me, and the truth is hardly going to surprise them. I did wonder, though – who dealt the killing blow? Not your little Vartag, surely?" Tim could only hope that the stress of the Assembly had kept Bhelen from immediately seeking Rica out upon arriving home.

"Yes, I suppose loyal Gorim is still out there looking for his beloved mistress." Bhelen snorted a little. "And I'm glad you're learning something, since it so happened that your _loyal_ company in the Deep Roads were to blame for your whole mess. I'll indulge you a moment – I'm sure you know perfectly well that I personally saw to Trian's death, since the whole brotherly affection thing is much more helpful than you'd know."

"How sweet. I quite like the spin you've put on it for the rest of Orzammar."

"Yes, yes, thank you. I suppose you've been talking to Rica, haven't you? Now, let's get to the point. You want allies. I can help you. First, I need the throne."

"Congratulations on stating the obvious. Now what is it that you want me to do that's so hard for you to do yourself?"

"So it's true – you really are going to help me. Well-"

Tim slapped him. "You're not going to retaliate, because you know I'm the only chance in the Stone you have of getting your behind on the throne. Of course I don't want to help you, murderer. The only reason I'm here is that supporting my house is a better option than following that weakling Harrowmont."

Bhelen rubbed his jaw. He'd almost forgotten why he'd hated his sister so much. "I see. Do you know Jarvia? She's running the Carta these days, and if I could show the city I can eliminate such a threat, my position will be much stronger. You can handle that, can't you?"

"It will show that you can't eliminate such a threat without the help of your big sister, but yes. Don't you have your chain of blackmailed soldiers to help? You seemed to have plenty of Deep Road officers willing to back up your lies about me."

"They're not as expendable as an exile. You know it takes quite a bit of effort to get them so loyal. If you can eliminate the Carta, I will be in a better position to offer you troops... it's a fair deal."

"Of course it's not," said Tim. "I'll be back."

She strode over to the door, made sure to open it gently enough so that Billybob wouldn't let out a squeak of surprised pain, and slammed it shut again.

Xox

"Now I'm just really confused," said Billybob as they made their way out of the palace. (Again, nobody took any notice.) The past five minutes had involved some heavy mental turmoil, including such points as, 'I can't support someone who tried to kill both his siblings and tells my sister a story like that; maybe he was lying to her about helping the casteless too,' and, 'But all nobles are a load of shit; who's to say Harrowmont's any better?' and then, 'I hate politics'. "He... what? Trian Aeducan? Huh? You? What?"

"So you believe me now?" said Tim. "It took you long enough... ready to fight for Harrowmont now?"

"Did you plan this?" said Alistair, also looking extremely confused. "I... what?"

"But you said you'd rather back up an Aeducan than Harrowmont in there," said Billybob. "Not that I was listening... yeah."

"What did you think I'd say? Let Bhelen call his guards on us as soon as we left? Of course I lied about that!" Tim wanted very badly to slap her forehead, but felt it would be un-princess-like.

"What am I going to tell Rica?" said Billybob.

Xox

The Provings were all very good fun, thought Billybob. The only nagging doubt in his mind was what Rica was going to say when she found out that he had scored a joint victory with Tim (Not Really An) Aeducan in the name of Lord Harrowmont.

He hoped he was making the right choice. Sometimes it was easier to just follow the leader, and he was getting tired of arguing with her.

Xox

"Tim, can we talk?" said Alistair, catching her as she left her changing room in the Proving lounge.

"Yes, of course...?"

"You wanted Billybob to be listening when you were talking to Bhelen in there. I mean, you must have been planning that. What else have you been planning since we came here?"

"There's no need to look at me so suspiciously, Alistair. I didn't know that he'd be that easily persuaded against Bhelen," said Tim. She looked around for any eavesdroppers. "Look, let's sit down. What's the real problem?"

"It's just... we haven't really talked since we started this journey, and I feel like I have no idea what you're doing."

"I just wanted to convince Billybob that Bhelen is no good," said Tim.

"Do you want to come back here after the Blight? Maybe that will get your name cleared."

"Where did that come from?"

"I just wondered. Billybob always says he wants to leave this place forever, but you... you don't say that."

"I was going to be Queen," said Tim, leaning back against the wall and closing her eyes. "Without that frustrating Bhelen in the way, I..."

"So all this time we spent together... You know, the tragedy, the brushes with death, the constant battle and the whole blight looming over us... You won't miss it once it's over? You'll just leave the Grey Wardens?"

Tim opened her eyes again. Then she narrowed them. "Will _you_ miss the battles? Or is it something else?"

"Yes, um... it might sound strange, since I've only known you for a few weeks, but... I've come to care about you. A great deal, too. I'd... miss you if you left."

"Oh," said Tim, and she found herself somewhat lost for words. That didn't usually happen.

**to be continued...**

_A/N: - Although I think Wynne would normally have gone with Harrowmont rather than Bhelen, I'm going to justify this by saying that at this point she knows nothing about the nobles of Orzammar except that Billybob's sister is in love with Bhelen. Thanks to Billybob, she's also a little wary of what Tim claims._  
_- Tim probably had the even more complicated Plans B and C ready for action if Plan 'convince Billybob through Bhelen's own words' A failed. Luckily for her, Billybob is kinda a sheep (... he evens accepts Wynne as a leader happily enough). I don't even know how she got Plan A to work.  
- I find the Stealth talent extreme in its awesomeness. Your rogue can walk up to a hurlock and throw a bomb in its face and it won't even realise you're there. All without the aid of magic. O_O  
- I hate Orzammar._


	13. In which the Urn is found

**Part XIII  
**_Golly, that High Dragon is huge._

**Xox  
**

"Aw, baby dragons!" squealed Leliana, forgetting all about her bow and arrow. The dragonling squeaked and puffed flames in her general direction.

SacredBob quickly smashed its skull with his shield. "Leliana, they want to kill us."

"I thought dragons had been exterminated by the humans many years ago," said Morrigan, inspecting the small body. FlowerPower sniffed it, and decided that it didn't smell much like any food he'd ever had before and that it was probably safer to ignore it.

"I thought so too, but I have also seen a brood of baby dragons at the Circle Tower. Maybe they aren't as rare as most people think?"

"Or maybe whoever was breeding dragons in their Tower house was a total nutcase, and I don't know anyone who's been to Haven and lived to tell the tale for human history," said Bob. "Er... Leliana? When you say brood, does that imply a whole lot more of them? And... a mummy dragon?"

"We didn't see any parents in the Tower," said Leliana, "but I would be surprised if this is the only dragon in these caves..."

Bob toed the body. "If they're meant to be extinct... How much d'you think a dragon skin would sell for? Or how about if we knock a couple of these babies out and take them back home? They could give a mabari a run for its money if you took them out hunting."

"We don't have time to skin these creatures," said Sten. "We need to move on."

"But these could sell for a fortune! Imagine... dragonskin shoes... and handbags... elite material for elite people."

"Dragonskin shoes might be a little tacky," said Leliana, crouching down for a closer look at the body. "But I suppose if it was done tastefully, it could be quite a statement-"

"Are you two finished with your fashion discussion?" said Morrigan.

"Hey! We could be onto something here. A whole exclusive baby dragon scale clothing chain, right?" said Bob. "Er... Morrigan, you live in the Wilds. How do you skin a lizard?" He looked up to find that Morrigan and Sten were already out of sight. Damn them.

"Orlais might find using animal hides a little rough, with the current craze for silk, but I'm sure with the right marketing we could definitely be going somewhere," said Leliana as they jogged.

"I think," said Bob slowly, "that next time we split into groups, we need to separate Sten and Morrigan."

Xox

"More crazy villagers?" said SacredBob. He beheaded a nearby axe-waving cultist. "I thought we already massacred the whole place!"

Morrigan's cone of ice scraped his cheek. "I told you to stop talking during our battles!"

"Better to stop talking at all," said Sten as the last cultist fell.

"What a pair of spoilsports," Bob said cheerfully. "Don't worry. I'm sure we'll find a cure for you somewhere."

Xox

"Perhaps we could take this," said Leliana. She picked up a length of drake skin that Bob's shield had scraped off, and was soon scrutinising the creatures for more easily-detached pieces.

"If you are suggesting more ideas for outlandish clothing..." said Morrigan.

"Hey, look who's talking?" Bob said. "Come on, Leliana, let's get some more! I wonder if I could get one of those eggs... a drake would be the most awesome pet _ever_!"

FlowerPower whined.

Xox

"Can you repeat that please?" said Bob.

"You have defiled our temple. You have spilled the blood of the faithful, and slaughtered our young," continued the lead cultist.

"This is a temple? I thought it was a dragon's toilet hole. Smells like one, right?"

"Religon turns all men mad," said Morrigan disdainfully. "I am sure 'tis only a matter of time before your Chantry follows this village's example."

"I'm sorry," said Leliana, realising that once again the rest of her party wasn't going to be of any sensible help. "We meant no disrespect. What manner of temple is this, then? Do you know the Sacred Ashes?"

"The Sacred Ashes? Pah!" The cultist spat. "The Ashes you seek reside atop this mountain, watched by an immortal guardian who refuses to accept the truth of the risen Lady, our Andraste."

Bob raised an eyebrow. "Er, what?"

"Andraste has returned to us in Her glorious new form; She has been reborn as a great dragon. We venerate Her children and She comes to us as Her chosen."

It was one of those rare times in his life that SacredBob found himself lost for words. Judging by the silence that followed the dragon-worshipper's words, his companions felt much the same way.

"You believe... Andraste is a _dragon_?" Leliana said.

"I am Father Kolgrim, the leader of Her chosen people. The Ashes prevent holy Andraste from fully realising Her new form. They are a remnant of Her past incarnation, and She cannot move on as long as they exist," said the cultist, glaring at her disbelieving expression.

"This is a whole new type of crazy," said Bob. He whistled appreciatively. "And I thought the village was bad."

"I doubt 'tis crazier than the rest of the Chantry's doctrines," muttered Morrigan.

Kolgrim took a deep breath. "You are ignorant, and I understand that. But I will brook no disrespect for our Beloved!"

"Sheesh, calm down! Look, er, what exactly do you want, anyway?"

"Allow me to continue. While you have earned Her anger in coming here, perhaps you could redeem yourself in victory. The Ashes hold Her power trapped, and only through Her blood can it be released. Just one drop of Her blood mixed with the Ashes will deliver our Lady from Her bonds. All we want is for you to honour Her by passing the Guardian and pouring this vial into the Ashes."

"Gosh," said Bob. "If there's one thing I've learnt from Chant readings, it's that anyone who can _talk_ in Capital Letters has to be at least borderline insane..."

"This is your Last Warning! You will stand no Chance against our Lady if you continue This Way! I can offer you many Rewards for undertaking such a Task – the Power Locked inside your Blood, For Example."

"Ooh, let me try! Can I have a Pet Dragon? No, er, wait! Can you cure this Rash on My Butt?"

"We can't desecrate the Ashes like this!" said Leliana, elbowing Bob. (Because Bob happened to be wearing a full suit of plate armour, it wasn't exactly effective.)

"Perhaps we should consider this madman's words a little," said Morrigan to Bob, who was wondering where that 'thok!' from his gauntlet had come from and why Leliana's expression was suddenly that of 'Ow, funny-bone tingles!'. "I, for one, would rather not have to risk my life against their Andraste."

"The only true way is the Qun," grumbled Sten. "We should not strengthen their delusions."

"Morrigan, _you_ want to _help _him?" said Bob.

"No! This is sacrilege!" cried Leliana indignantly.

"Be quiet," snapped Morrigan. "'Tis not my fault your superstitions would rather your saviour be a pile of lost dust than a high dragon."

"Helping crazy people never goes anywhere good. These people are obviously a little disturbed in the head," Bob said.

"And that is why I told you not to take the Chantry sister with us, and what did you do then?"

"Yes, but Leliana isn't homicidally deranged, which is really much more than I can say for you. Yee-ow!"

Morrigan scowled, and decided not to ask what that sound effect was supposed to represent. "I can assure you that I did not beg for this 'adventure'."

"Yeah, 'cos your mummy wanted you to-"

"Please!" said Leliana, looking at them despairingly. "We need to make a decision."

"Sure, yeah, I just did!" said Bob. He waved at Kolgrim to get his attention. "Oi, cultist guys! You're crazy!"

Xox

"Logically, given that we have slaughtered Kolgrim and all his fellow cult members, the dragon Andraste won't know to attack us," said Morrigan, though not with much conviction. They were standing by an open door to the summit of the mountain – and sure enough, there was a rather large dragon on the top of the cliffs opposite.

"Shh! ... though I suppose 'suicide by dragon' would make rather a nice headstone, don't you think?" Bob said.

"Is it now time to turn away from this Urn hunt?" said Sten.

"Don't be a pansy," said Bob. "We're going to kick its ass. Booyeah."

"I somehow doubt that," Morrigan said.

"I can't think why," said Sten.

"But if you'd like to go ahead, please do so by all means."

"Spoilsports. Look, I'm going!" He strode out of the doorway and into the bright sunlight. FlowerPower bounded along beside him, hoping for a fun (and hopefully not too fatal) dragon battle.

Morrigan looked out after them, and reluctantly followed a few moments later. "At least he cannot blame me once he has broken every bone in his body," she said to Sten.

Considering that, the next few minutes turned out to be a bit of an anticlimax.

Xox

"Perhaps it will eat you on the way down," said Morrigan cheerfully. "My hopes are still high."

"It just can't stand my Aura of Total Badassery," said SacredBob. _Whoo, Capital Letters were fun. _His dog barked in agreement – Morrigan gave them both a disparaging look.

"Is this where the Ashes are kept?" said Leliana, noticing the solitary guard at the far end of the room.

"Yes. I am the Guardian of the Ashes," said the figure as she approached. Bob jumped, and quickly came to her side. "You are the first to arrive in a very long time."

"Is that because of the group of crazies down in the village or the dragon family in the caves?" Bob asked.

"I have waited years beyond counting for a pilgrim to be proved worthy of the Ashes," said the Guardian, pointedly ignoring Bob. "It has been my duty, my life, to protect the Urn and prepare the way for the faithful who come to revere Andraste."

"Gosh," said Bob. "How terribly exciting for you."

"Be respectful, Bob," admonished Leliana. "We have come in the hope of curing a sick man, as well as to revere Andraste. I... I don't know if I should ask, but may we take a pinch of the Ashes?"

"Hey, I'm in charge here," said Bob, though not unkindly. "... but that's about what I was going to say. So, er, yeah. How about it, Guardian?"

"The way is always open. However, before you go, there is something I must ask. I see that the path that led you here was not easy."

"You mean the mountain? Jeez, that was a tough ride. It's not very tourist-friendly, you know. Maybe you could consider some guided tours, that sort of thing?"

The Guardian had thought himself above such petty emotions as exasperation and had successfully fought the urge to roll his eyeballs - however silly these new-fangled dragon cults were getting - for well over a millennium. He struggled with his inner eyeball-rolling-reflex for a moment, and got past this obstacle by closing his eyes briefly and running through a quick prayer of patience. He told himself and anyone listening to his mind that eyeball-rolling under closed eyelids certainly did not count, if only for the sake of keeping up his winning streak. (He and the Reflection Spirit had a long-running contest on this sort of thing, which had the side-effect of estranging them from the rest of the Gauntlet spirits in the name of competition. Maferath, for one, could be very eyeball-roll-inducing, and it was safer just to stay away...) "Will you allow me one question?"

"-the scenery is fantastic, though, and I love what you've done with the open air vista on the bridge just as you come out of the main temple-"

"You abandoned your father and mother, leaving them in the hands of Rendon Howe, knowing he would show no mercy. Tell me, pilgrim, did you fail them?"

Bob stopped talking. There was a sudden frosty (which was impressive, as the sheer amount of frost that was already in the room did make it hard for it get _even frostier_) silence, during which FlowerPower nuzzled his leg and Morrigan practised her favourite I-couldn't-care-less expression.

"Of course I failed them!" he hissed, stepping up to the Guardian and daring the figure to back away. "What kind of dumbass question is that, anyway? I don't have an idea in hell what I did wrong or why Iona and Oren ended up bleeding to death on the floor, or how being a good little Warden and running through your Gauntlet is going to lead me to Rendon Howe, but I'm damn sure that I'm trying to find out. You can take your soul-searching questions and stick them up your ass, alright?"

"I see," said the Guardian, and Bob stepped away. He didn't bother to listen to the other three's questions.

Xox

"I'm sorry," said Leliana. "I didn't know about your family, or what caused you to become a Grey Warden in the first place, and that was a terrible way to find out."

"Yeah, yeah. Look, can it wait until we get out?" He gestured at the hall of ghosts. "I'm pretty sure this isn't safe territory yet."

Leliana nodded. Of course she'd seen Bob brutally gut countless other men in self-defence, knock out Sten and give Morrigan a short verbal beatdown, but the glancing slap of anger and loss she'd briefly felt in the Guardian's interview wasn't something she felt particularly safe around. Sometimes, she thought, it was worth reminding that SacredBob Cousland – even with the silly name – had a little bit more going on than idiotically inane comments. "Should we... talk to them?"

Xox

"Hey, dad," said SacredBob. "What's up?"

"My dearest child..."

Bob spread out his hands. "Look, if this is another test of guilt or regret or whatever, I kind of don't want to hear it. I... can't."

"Pup... I know you miss me, but my death, and my life, no longer have a hold on you," said the spirit gently.

"You want me to forget it all? Do you even think I _can_?"

"I see the pain and anger you carry. I know you fear to give it voice, but rest assured, my child, the Maker knows your heart. You may cover it with shallow words and distractions, but I can see you all the same."

"Of course. What did you expect?"

"There is a time for letting go, all the pain and all the guilt; acknowledge it, but do not let it rule you. No more must you grieve, my boy."

"I'm not finished yet."

"You must look to the horizon, not behind you. Take this, and my love and forgiveness, with you on your long road, and do not falter."

Bob caught the amulet. The spirit was already fading. He couldn't tell if he was outraged, depressed or cheered by the whole conversation, but he was quite sure that the spirit's words were a pile of old junk. Or maybe that was just an excuse. Whichever way it was, he knew they were going to be impossible to follow.

He wondered who Leliana and the others had seen. He wondered what FlowerPower had seen.

Xox

"I'm not letting you two have control over whether I go plunging into that hole or not," said Bob indignantly. "No, why don't you go across yourself?"

"And I wouldn't want to have such an empty-headed idiot controlling whether I fall or not," replied Morrigan. "You are our fearless leader, are you not?"

"Fearless isn't the same as idiotically trusting," snapped Bob. "I'm not letting you kill me. Again."

"I'll go over," said Leliana. "Neither of you have any quarrel with me, surely?"

"Can the dog even follow such instructions as 'stand on the second from the top left side stone?' For that matter, can you?" said Morrigan.

"I bet FlowerPower has a bigger brain than you, whiner of the wilds," Bob said. "Er, have any change?"

"Perhaps the dog should cross then," Sten said. FlowerPower whined a little.

"Sure, but if you two end up being the reason his gravestone is going to have the words 'this is an empty dog-coffin because he fell into a stupidly large hole and we couldn't get him out' on it, we might have to order two more of those headstones."

"Is that okay, FlowerPower?" said Leliana, scratching the dog's ears.

"I'll give you a treat if you do it," Bob said. FlowerPower barked happily.

"At least one of them has a dog's brain," said Morrigan.

Xox

Leliana was let off the hook, on account of the fact that she had pleaded guilty to accidentally stepping off the stone at precisely the wrong time, and because she had already agreed to spend half her purse on dog biscuits next time they ran into Old Tegrin. . The weightier reason, however, was that even though SacredBob could've sworn on his party's life (although that didn't exactly mean much, given that he wasn't particularly well-disposed to his party right now) that FlowerPower had fallen, the dog had appeared back on firm ground a few seconds later. FlowerPower privately thought that the whole falling-into-a-gaping-chasm business had been rather fun, especially with the surprise teleportation at the bottom. He wondered if he could try doing it again, but then reasoned that his master might try to throttle him for giving him another heart attack and besides, it might be one of those use-once-and-dispose-of traps. No, better not. He wagged his tail and happily thought of the pile of treats he was going to get when they got back down this mountain.

"I'm so, so sorry," said Leliana, hugging the dog. "If we ever go over one of those things again, I promise I'll do it instead. Thank the Maker for His enchantments around this place!" FlowerPower's tail wagged harder, and was followed up with a lick to her face.

Xox

"Cast off the trappings of worldly life and cloak yourself in the goodness of spirit. King and slave, lord and beggar; be born anew in the Maker's sight," read Leliana.

"And here is yet another trial of religious nonsense," said Morrigan. "What is this goodness of spirit? Born anew? Hah."

"I wonder why the Maker likes seeing naked people," said Bob as he pulled off his boots.

"You expect _all_ of us to strip?" said Morrigan.

"There there. It's hardly much of a change for you, y'know."

"This is senseless," Sten said. "I will _not_ be participating in this."

"I was about to say the same," Morrigan said.

"Suit yourself." Bob shrugged, which was rather a tricky move since his head and arms were stuck inside his breastplate. There was a clang, and then a muffled "yark!".

"I would like to see the Urn, though," Leliana said. "Although I do have to admit that these are rather strange instructions..." She hesitantly took off her tunic, and wondered if SacredBob wanted them to go the whole way. FlowerPower pawed at his collar and whined a bit.

"I'd help, boy, but I'm kind of busy..." said Bob from inside the depth of the breastplate. "Leliana, are you taking off your smallclothes?"

"Are you planning to ogle her, or is there a reason why you ask?" said Morrigan.

"Oi, stop it, you strangely choosy stripper," Bob said.

"I was going to ask you that. Your question, I mean," Leliana said, choosing to ignore Morrigan. She took off FlowerPower's collar and petted him. "It's a bit..."

"Yeah, I know," Bob said. Although he was not a particularly self-conscious person, the embarrassingly-positioned rash that had set in a few days ago was not making this the best time for full-body displays. "We could try walking through now and seeing if the fire hurts..."

He poked the flames gingerly. He didn't register any pain, so he screwed up his eyes and walked through. Nothing happened.

"Awesome! I guess the Maker is a bit short-sighted when it comes to casting off the trappings of worldly life," he said. "Leliana, are you coming?"

"What if something bad happens later?" said Leliana, who had decided not to take the risk. Bob tried to avert his gaze, and settled for closing his eyes in a look of intense concentration when he realised that gaze-averting was going to fail. "And you shouldn't say such things about the Maker, especially not here."

"Then in that case those two should have been struck by lightning years ago," said Bob, daring to open an eye. "Not the point! Let's go up."

Xox

It was strange, but SacredBob was finding it hard to care much for the dust slipping through his fingers. There was a part of his mind that knew this was supposed to be the end point of a great pilgrimage that thousands would die to make, and that these ashes were possibly the most sacred things in Thedas, and that this mountain adventure was finally at an end and he was now permitted to return in victory to Arl Eamon, but... the rest of his consciousness just shrugged and said, "So what?" to it. The only thought that seemed to have any emotion stuck to it was of the amulet around his neck, and by extension that of a certain Arl he needed to hunt down like a rat. (He was going to say 'fox', which would have made more sense, but he didn't feel like wasting the idea of a good old foxhunt on someone like Howe.)

At least Leliana was suitably impressed. She didn't say a word as they crossed over the fire again, not even to answer Morrigan's jibes, and even to the Guardian (who had mysteriously appeared somewhere in the middle of the whole mess) she could only give a few awed mumbles.

Xox

They set off back down the mountain.

"Something has fallen out of your pack," said Sten.

"Aha!" Bob said. He picked up a small trumpet-like object. "I found it on one of those cult people down there."

Three people and a dog winced as a horrific screeching noise echoed around the mountain and pummelled their eardrums.

"Pretty good, even if I do say so myself," Bob said, stowing the instrument back into his bag.

"Perhaps you need some more practice," Sten said, and then he was knocked over by a dragon. The others looked at the scene with more than a little astonishment, which quickly turned into alarm as the dragon picked up Sten in its mouth and attempted to swallow him. It choked, whacked Leliana with its tail in anger, and promptly coughed Sten out on top of FlowerPower.

"Gosh. You could make a whole wedding dress with a train out of this one," said Bob as he charged towards what was probably certain death.

**to be continued...**

_A/N: - Every work of fantasy will contain at least eight Important Capitalised Words (i.e. the Table of the Elders of the Earth Flower), and a few pages worth of special gobbledygook otherwise known as "the ancient magic language" or "old elvish" or "the sacred ritual invocations". With apostrophes. For some reason, all created languages will have an ungodly amount of ra'ndom apo'strop'hes.  
- Having a pet drake would be awesome. Although I would have to buy a fireproof house and furnishings. In the original Sims, I remember there was an expansion where you could get pet dragons... I ended up with a load of them, and they burned my house down every other day.__  
- Speaking of Sims, I got bored and made Sims 3 versions of all six PCs, complete with amusing bios and in-character traits and relationships. Now I'm just stuck on what to actually do with them, and Sims 3 Exchange isn't working for me.__  
-If you want a clearer picture of what the characters look like, however, I do have a screenshot at _http:/ /i50. photobucket. com/albums/ f321/ theangelicangel/ Screenshot-124-1. jpg _- left to right is Billybob, SacredBob, Tim, Hosomaki, Kalamari and Martini._


	14. In which romance is initiated

**Part XIV  
**_Down in Ostagar, Team Elf Plus Golem is go!_

**Xox  
**

"I am not one for judging other people, no matter their personal tastes, but do you perhaps think we should be worried?" said Zevran.

"About what?" said Hosomaki.

"There appear to be two mass murderers of the avian population behind us. Not that this should trouble you, of course."

Hosomaki gave them another quick look. "I don't know, it all seems like good fun over there to me."

"I think it's good that Cel's learnt to divert her attention from shems to pigeons," Kalamari said. "And it's good that Shale's fitting in so nicely."

"Do you get experience and gold for shooting birds?" said Hosomaki.

"It'd be nice if they did," said Kalamari.

"Considering they have been at it for the past two days, don't you think this may have gone... a little too far?" Zevran said.

"Mm, well, I don't know," said Kalamari. "I guess I do miss talking to Cel a bit, but... getting her to talk to anyone is a great step forwards! Plus as long as she keeps talking to someone, her throat should gradually get used to the strain."

"Maybe I should loot those birds," said Hosomaki to himself.

Zevran did not look too convinced, but he supposed he shouldn't argue against three Grey Wardens and a moving statue. "Well then, if you two are happy with it..."

There was a squawk and a wet-sounding "mwushmp" from behind them, and they turned to see Shale and Cel shouting angrily at each other over a feathered and bloody lump on the grass.

"It did not get this one! I crushed it before it had a chance to fire!"

"No, I shot it and then you looked down 'cus I got your attention, and _then_ you crushed it! Other way round! It's mine!"

"Why does it shoot them when they are under my feet? It is wasting its arrows."

"Guys!" said Kalamari, walking towards them with hands raised. "We shouldn't be arguing in the team, okay? Why don't you just claim it as a draw?"

Shale and Cel looked at each other, and then down at what might have been a woodpigeon some minutes previous. Kalamari waited patiently. Then two contestants shrugged (it was quite disconcerting to see a golem shrug, thought the other three elves) and said at the same time, "A hundred and sixteen-all."

Xox

Ostagar was a little snowier than Kalamari remembered. She said this, Cel agreed, and then they found that Hosomaki couldn't actually remember anything about the whole Ostagar affair except that there was a werewolf involved in it somewhere.

"Didn't you write it down in your journal?" said Kalamari.

"I don't write in it; it's done by magic," said Hosomaki, not wanting to seem _too_ enthusiastic about his Codex. "And it's all blank here... maybe there's a bug in these files somewhere..."

Kalamari looked, but she couldn't see any spiders or squashed flies hanging around the journal. "Oh well. Don't worry about it, and hopefully it'll jog your memory as we go through."

"May I ask why we are here in the first place?" said Zevran.

"Certainly!" Kalamari fished out a scrap of paper from her boot. "Okay, I think Tim wrote this one. Let me just read it out: 'The aim of this mission is the attempt in negation for any discredit suffered by the Wardens in regards to King Cailan's demise. It is your duty firstly to reclaim the lost property of the Ferelden king, Cailan, and secondly to bring an end to any humiliation endured by his body. We have intelligence that the key to the king's personal property is secreted by a statue in the grounds of Ostagar – I trust that you will have no problem in recovering it. Signed, Lady Tim Aeducan.' At least, I think it says that. Her signature's really messy..."

"This Lady Tim wants us to search every statue? Surely it knows that there are _many_ statues in this place," said Shale.

"Don't worry," said Hosomaki confidently. "I'll know which one's right."

"Do you mind if I ask how?" said Zevran.

"It'll be marked with 'Buried Key' or something like that, and there might be sparkles," explained Hosomaki. "It's a mage thing, I think it's the Fade leaking in!" he added quickly.

"Well!" said Kalamari, rubbing her hands both in anticipation and in the hope of keeping frostbite at bay. "So we're all good then? Let's go, Team Elf! I mean, Team Elf Plus Golem!"

"Is the loud elf always like this?" Shale asked, once Kalamari had run on some distance ahead.

"Eh," said Cel.

Xox

Two hours later, Hosomaki had found the statue, and was now wondering who the Elric in 'Elric's Buried Key' referred to, and Zevran was hoping that their quest would soon be at an end. Not that he had anything against Grey Warden-ing, or even against the particular Grey Wardens that he was travelling with, but this was miserable weather to be darkspawn-hunting.

"I could try doing a weather spell," said Hosomaki when Zevran said as much to him. "But I don't think I'm very good at them..."

"Ah, how so?"

"Last time, I caused a tidal wave to flood the whole of the first floor of the Tower," explained Hosomaki. "It was just meant to be a private show to set the mood in the bathroom for Mary Sue, but I think I went overboard with it..."

"Was that a pun, good Warden?" said Zevran, chuckling. "And who is Mary Sue? I don't think you've told me about this one yet."

Kalamari, who was walking close to Hosomaki but not quite close enough to really be included in the conversation, found herself feeling slightly left out. _Boys and their obsession with sex_, she thought despairingly. She glanced back at Shale and Cel. _And those two and their obsession with... squishiness._ She suddenly felt very lonely.

It was in the middle of these fifth-wheel thoughts that she led the way into colliding with a genlock sorcerer of some description, and found that they had been hurled into battle with a group of skeletons.

"Whoops," she said out loud. Then she noticed the naked body hung up above her, and said, "Guys look it's King Cailan yessss we've found him!" And after that, she was knocked breathless by an arrow to the cheek, and then knocked unconscious by a mighty blow to her head.

Xox

"... not that good at healing spells," she heard Hosomaki saying, and struggled to stay in consciousness.

"Oh, do you have an amusing anecdote about that too?" said Zevran, sounding interested.

"Not as such, but there was that one time with Elisasolonaneriakalli-"

"Shut your face and get on with it before I gut you myself!" snarled Cel.

"There is no need to be rude," said Zevran. "I think she is looking better already, don't you?"

Kalamari realised that she was actually feeling better already, and opened her eyes to blearily note the dead king suspended above her head. "Yaa!" she said when she realised what she was looking at.

Hosomaki jumped. "Sorry!" he said.

"Not you!" said Kalamari, sitting up and pointing at the body. "Him!"

"Oh," Hosomaki said with relief. "We were going to ask you what you wanted to do with him."

Kalamari slumped back down again. "I guess... we should take him down and burn him properly then."

"And how long will it take?" said Cel. "I want to kill darkspawn."

"Yes, not to put too fine a point on it, but this weather is bloody awful," said Zevran. "I'd rather we finished our job sooner than later."

"He deserves a proper sending-off, and Tim told us to do that much for him at least," said Kalamari firmly.

"It wants to waste more time for this squishy human?" said Shale. "We could be doing so much else while the loud elf burns this king." Cel grunted in agreement.

"Kala?" said Hosomaki. "I don't want to rush you, but I can sense more darkspawn coming... if we don't clear out the Tower and the ones under the bridge, they could rush us at any time. And, um, have you ever built a funeral pyre before?"

"You can sense darkspawn?" said Kalamari. "I can't do that! I thought only older Grey Wardens could..."

"It's more of an 'unfinished' feeling," said Hosomaki, "because we're definitely not done here. I think we need to go down."

"Okay, you're the mage, cool," said Kalamari, and got back somewhat heavily onto her feet.

Xox

They passed through the Tower and the tunnels, fought darkspawn and spiders, and finally found themselves at the feet of the great bridge of Ostagar. Kalamari was hoping that Hosomaki had a plan, or at least knew why in the Maker's secret wine cellar they had come down here. Turning a corner, she saw the answer – that genlock sorcerer again.

"Some darkspawn just don't know when to be killed," said Zevran. He looked to her expectantly, presumably for orders. Kalamari still wasn't very comfortable with that look.

"Yeah, um, okay," she said. "Team Elf Plus Golem is go...?"

Xox

Hosomaki would be the first to admit that he really wasn't a very good mage, and that his spell combinations and tactics weren't so much combinations and tactics as they were messes and confusions. He often wondered why exactly he had been chosen for the Wardens. It was rather surprising, since he was quite sure that Amell, for example, with his prodigious skills in all four schools of magic and then some (no-one could bake a pie like Amell did, or darn socks like Amell did, or breed kittens like Amell did – although Hosomaki could categorically state that he was better in bed than Amell was) should have been first on the shortlist.

So far, he'd managed to catch three teammates in a snowstorm while skilfully letting the spell avoid all undead ogres, skeletons and necromancers. Damn it, he _knew_ he couldn't do weather magic! He slapped his forehead and tried again. Only... well, he had a huge – maybe not huge, but definitely more than twelve, which to Hosomaki was an overwhelming number – list of spells that he could potentially do, and a huge number or potential targets for those spells, and which one was he meant to cast first?

Cel was alright, though. There was probably something that made a good team – _teamwork_, perhaps – but Cel wasn't much interested in that. The only reason she'd missed out on sampling Hosomaki's adept weather handling was because she was currently having fun on the other side of the clearing smashing skeletons and watching them slowly come to life. It was like a never-ending party! What was that strange squealing in the distance? Oh, just the mage.

"Ceeeeeeeeel!" called Hosomaki, clutching his chest (stupid backfiring spells!) and wondering how to cast that group healing spell he'd seen Amell learning from that ponytail-mage. (These thoughts led him onto wondering whether the said ponytail mage had ever forgiven him for what he'd done with Amell and a certain kitten basket in the mage quarters, but Hosomaki was trying not to go down that path just now.) "Weeeee neeeeeeed heeeeeeeelp!"

"Huh?" said Cel. She drop-kicked an undead skull over a hill, and laughed manically at the headless skeleton waving its arms around in alarm.

"Looooooooook!" said Hosomaki. He pointed at the snowstorm. Then he fainted.

Cel rolled her eyes. Apart from various slicing and dicing techniques and axe throwing, possibly her greatest talent was to be almost immune to pain. It wasn't that she couldn't feel it; it was more that she couldn't really care less if she did happen to drop dead, and years of strenuous mental conditioning had taught her pain receptors the same message. (The whole of her clan thought that the reason she was still alive today was either because Tamlen had always pulled her out of it at the last moment, or because there were no regenerating creatures in the forest. They weren't sure whether to curse or thank the Creators for those facts.)

She pulled out a sword that had somehow got lodged in her thigh, and looked at the snowstorm. A moment later the genlock necromancer was on the ground with a knife between his eyes. She debated for a few moments on whether to do the same to Hosomaki for simply being utterly useless, but resisted the temptation. (She felt very proud of herself for that.)

Xox

Cel put a few health poultices on Kalamari, and then she stabbed Hosomaki in the arm to wake him up.

"I don't know how to cast a healing spell on a golem!" said Hosomaki, who was holding onto consciousness only through the force of sheer terror. "They don't even have blood!"

"Shut up! Do it!" snapped Cel, and wondered where the hole in her leg had come from. "And give me another box of poultices!"

Hosomaki looked at the rapidly-growing patch red-stained snow around Cel, gulped and did so. "We should probably rest here and put up tents," he said once he'd made sure that the team were, on the whole, breathing and not likely to die of blood loss in the next twenty minutes. "It's getting dark, and I think I'm going to faint again..."

"Shut up," said Cel. She padded up a few more of her wounds with poultice herbs and went to look for tent poles.

Xox

"Perhaps it would be a good idea to talk about teamwork, no?" said Zevran later that night. Hosomaki had been pushed to the limit casting small healing spells to stem innumerable opening wounds, boiling batches of new poultices every half hour and obsessively looting every single dead body on the battlefield (oh Maker, the _sparkles_...), but his efforts had paid off. The group were now sat by a warm campfire – well, except for Shale, who didn't like sitting down. And Cel, who was discussing all the ways in which shems disgusted her with the golem. So it was really only three of them who were sitting by the warm campfire.

"I don't think we're very good at it," Hosomaki ventured. "You'd think we'd be a good combination, with one mage, two rogues and two warriors... sort of... but it doesn't seem to be working."

Kalamari yawned. Struggling upwards from battle-induced blackouts was hard enough the first time round – twice in one day was just getting silly. Her rather unhealthy skinny frame made her look close to fainting even at the best of times, and a month of trudging around fending off darkspawn hardly made this the best of times. Right now, she was leaning on her battleaxe for support and feeling rather like a used latrine brush. "What happened with the snow, anyway?"

"Sorry," mumbled Hosomaki. "I'm just not very good..."

"Okay, stop right there!" said Kalamari. "Stop depressing yourself! You're going into an angst session, I can feel it!"

Hosomaki looked dangerously close to giving the whole group the Sad Eyes (TM), so Zevran felt compelled to step in.

"Really, Hosomaki, I doubt you are as hopeless as your words portray you. You managed to save us all from certain death almost single-handedly knowing only a single spell of healing, correct?"

"... certain death which I caused in the first place ..."

Zevran waved him aside. "Psah, technicalities. It was a very good snowstorm, if I may say so, and all that needs fixing is the direction. Small details."

Hosomaki poked the fire morosely. "I don't know."

"You just need to relax, and stop worrying! You _know_ you're good," Kalamari said. "Maybe... I don't know, maybe you should write down all your spells so you don't get confused? 'Cos, you know, you usually stand away from the battle so maybe you'll be less rushed than us in the middle of it all."

"That might be even more confusing..." Hosomaki said.

"Or... just keep away from the weather ones, whatever." She yawned again. "Guys, I know we need to talk about battle tactics and stuff, but... I'm just so tired. Can we sleep and discuss it in the morning? You guys look a bit tired too; maybe we should all get some rest."

The other two nodded their consent, and she trooped off into her tent dragging her axe behind her. There was a thump.

"I guess she's asleep," said Hosomaki.

Zevran looked at him closely. "You _do_ look tired. Not surprisingly, since I hear you've been industriously crushing herbs for the past two hours. Perhaps I could offer you some relaxation?"

Xox

Kalamari woke up with a painfully full bladder. Taking a roll of toilet paper out of her pack, she carefully edged out of the tent, found a small bush and relieved herself. Then she wondered slightly desperately where the nearest well was, because she really needed to wash her hands. Yuk. Was the snow dirty? Was snow cleaner than toilet material? How about snow with dead darkspawn on it? Hmm? She rubbed her hands on the snow and felt very, very awake. And it wasn't just because of the tent next door. (Though it might have been because of the cold, cold snow.)

She sat down by the fire and stirred it a little. Lucky they had a mage with magic flames, she thought. The minutes passed, and then someone sat down beside her.

"_AEE_-" started Kalamari, and then that someone's hand was covering her mouth.

"Knew you would scream," hissed Cel. "Shut up!"

Kalamari closed her mouth, and the hand was removed. "Cel! Maker's-four-ply-elfroot-infused-scented-waxed toilet paper, that nearly gave me a heart attack! What are you doing up so late? Aren't you tired?"

"Just dealt with a few darkspawn stragglers with Shale," said Cel. "He doesn't sleep."

"Oh? Really? I never noticed - cool! I think. But... don't you?"

"Not tired. You're awake, aren't you?"

"Okay. And yes... I needed the toilet, and Hosomaki and Zevran are going to keep me up if I try to get back to sleep now." Kalamari poked the flames harder and lit her stick on fire. Fun! "You and Shale seem to be getting on well."

"Yeah, maybe."

"What are golems, anyway?"

"He said the dwarves made them, that's all. Lost his memory, I think."

"Mmm." They sat in silence and watched the stick trace burning after-patterns in their vision. It was a while before Kalamari said, "He does seem to like squishing things an awful lot. It looks rather messy from where I am."

"Yeah. I don't really like squishing," said Cel. "Prefer seeing them beheaded with an axe any day."

Xox

"Does it have a plan for today's activities?" said Shale.

"Yep!" said Kalamari. "We're going to get the chest and then bring King Cailan's body down, and I think we'll just leave him for the Wilds because building a pyre is going to take all day. And then we find Levi Dryden and do whatever Bob and Tim wanted for him. But first I want to talk about what we did wrong yesterday." She looked around at the others, who all made gestures of agreement.

"Wait, Kala? I thought you wanted to give him a proper funeral yesterday," said Hosomaki.

"Um... yes, but I was thinking... how are we going to get enough wood with all this ice? I'm the only one who can cut down a tree, and I don't think I can do it. And it's _freezing_. As long as we can say we didn't let the darkspawn have him, I think Tim will be okay," said Kalamari.

"Yes, but surely taking him down from such a height would still be wasting time in this infernal cold," said Zevran.

"I don't know," said Hosomaki, looking at them both. "He is a king, so it won't be wasting time at all... It doesn't seem very respectful to royalty to let the wolves eat him, does it?"

"I've made my decision taking you guys into account, so... yeah, it's fine. We'll probably spend an hour on that, and then we can go to the Dryden's."

"It wants to waste another hour in this place? I suppose it is better than the whole day, at least," grumbled Shale.

"Yes, exactly. Anyway, yes, um, here's a list of things... one, Hosomaki I read the spell list you gave me and wrote you a tactics sheet so you get the right combination in every situation; two, Cel you should probably stick with us and please please don't go running ahead; three, me and Shale should be in front of the darkspawn and Cel and Zevran should be behind them _not the other way round_; and four... four... oh, wait, there isn't a four. Well, four could be that you four listen to me when we're in the battle, and we work together as a team. That means, you shout out whatever you're doing next and when I say we all go for the leftmost hurlock, we go for the leftmost hurlock. Team Elf Plus Golem, okay?"

"You know, dear lady," said Zevran in a tone that was half surprise and half approval, "you do seem be getting more into this leadership business."

"I know, right?" said Kalamari excitedly. "I thought, if Bob can do it then there's no reason why my leadership skills should be restrained to naked purple ladies."

And the realisation that people _depended_ on her, and that if she was the only Warden here that had some idea of what she wanted then really, she ought to take the chance. The werewolf debacle had been enough to propel her into making a stand, so why was she so scared about the whole thing now? It was time for someone to take responsibility (maybe that was what was frightening – the fact that if it all went wrong, it was on her – but maybe it was her responsibility already), and if she thought herself the best for the role... She'd woken up infused with a new sense of purpose, and she was determined to let it stay.

"It makes sense in context," muttered Cel in response to Zevran and Hosomaki's surprised faces.

**to be continued...**

_A/N: Guys guys guys! Ever wanted to know what Kalamari and Cel actually looked like? Then great! Stress makes me draw stuff, so thanks to a stressful week I've been propelled into doing various arty activities. _http: / / sapphirecrow. deviantart. com/ #/ d2zngb9_ - although the scanner washed out quite a bit of the detail, and you'll just have to imagine Kalamari's ginger hair._

_- The tales of Hosomaki's various and surprising conquests (with girls and boys with such names as Gary Stu, Fcousland and Gayalistair) could take up a whole novel in themselves.  
- Shale is a 'he' as none of these elves have visited Caridin.  
- I would like to write some sordid backstory about Amell, a brief fling with Anders in which kittens were involved (c'mon, Amell breeds the fluffy critters), something about Hosomaki being a complete homewrecker, and Mr Wiggums. Maybe I'll put that in if I continue this fic into Awakening._


	15. In which we traverse the Deep Roads

**Part XV**  
_Tim makes a decision, Billybob kills a friend, Alistair strips, Oghren joins the crew, and Wynne... doesn't do much._

**Xox**

"And," said Alistair, nervously avoiding her eyes, "I... I guess I just wanted to know if you felt the same. I suppose it's because we've been through so much together, but maybe I'm just fooling myself. Do you... what do you think? Am I just imagining it?"

Not many things startled Tim. Her exile had been one, and the casually dropped reminders that she was no Aeducan but merely a casteless were still hard to shrug off. Relationships and the workings of the dwarvish – or human – mind, however, weren't usually part of that group. She'd had experience enough manipulating aged heads of noble houses with sweet smiles and affectionate replies to be fazed by sudden lovestruck declarations, and more than enough _familiarity_ with Gorim to understand how the whole game worked. The underlying motivations behind the declarations and Gorim's undying loyalty, however, was not something that Tim fully understood – she'd brushed it off with the assumption that love and incontrollable affection were things for people who weren't princesses to have, and as long as her observations continued to add up she would continue to use this weapon in her armoury. Unfortunately, her observations so far had not involved Alistair.

"You are certainly very enjoyable company," she said guardedly, and found that she couldn't bring herself to look him in the eye. She stopped, because there was something about this situation that made her stomach clench uncomfortably and the worst part of it was that she didn't know why.

"And... is that all?" said Alistair. He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. "Ah. Well... I suppose I was being too forward, wasn't I? Is it too soon for me to be saying this? I'm, well, not very experienced with this sort of thing, and I thought..."

"Nor am I," said Tim, somewhat truthfully. "I – I think we should talk about this at a later date, as I don't think this is the time. Perhaps being in Orzammar is taking its toll on me; it's certainly not a comfortable place for me at the moment..."

"Yes, I heard some of what they were saying about you in the palace, and... wait, I shouldn't keep bringing those sorts of things up, should I? Maker, I'm being useless. Well, maybe when all this is said and done, we can-"

Tim stood up and hugged him awkwardly. _Side-stepping the questions as always_, she thought to herself. Alistair coughed. He couldn't work out whether that had been a rejection.

Xox

"What're the odds of Harrowmont and Bhelen asking for the exact same thing?" said Billybob. "Clear out the Carta, yeah, alright."

"Did you say that you lived in Dust Town, Billybob?" said Wynne. "Have you crossed the Carta's path before, then?"

"You could say that," said Billybob. "And this whole clearing up business... I dunno, it's not gonna help much. Someone else's just gonna step in and start it all up again, 'cos that's what Dust Town _is_. You don't have any other choice down there."

"Yes, I expect so," said Tim, frowning. "I doubt Harrowmont believes he has a chance against the disgrace of Dust Town; rather, this is a publicity feat for the crown. Of course it won't be a permanent solution, but we can try, I suppose."

"And wreck the livelihood of all the families down in it," Billybob said. He shouldered his pack and set off down to the Commons; the others followed. "Yeah, well, never mind. Let's just get on with it and back to the surface, alright?"

Xox

"Leske!" said Billybob. "Hey, Leske!"

"Well, chew me up and swallow me whole! I never thought I'd see you back here, and with the exile of all things!" The strange dwarf gave Tim a quick glance and seemed to realise that he'd probably said something Very Bad. "What happened, duster? You miss getting spit on?"

"Who are you?" said Tim with disgust.

"This is Leske, a good friend," Billybob said quickly. "Leske, Tim. Happy introductions. Oh yeah, and this is Alistair and Wynne."

"Wonderful," Tim said, managing to imbue that word with a whole lifetime's worth of disdain. Leske probably didn't know what had hit him. Alistair and Wynne made slightly politer sounds of acknowledgement. "Does he know how to get into the Carta's hideout?"

"What's that?" said Leske. "You talking to me? Hey, so is that why you're strutting around in Dust Town then?"

"Wardeny duties. Harrowmont wants us to do him a favour and deal with Jarvia," Billybob said. "How've you been? What happened with that Beraht business after I got pulled away?"

"Sounds like you heard, salroka – Jarvia took over, killed off all the competitors and made some kind of deal with her dead lover's family topside. Plus, with Endrin's death, she managed to cover a whole load of new ground; guards all up in the Diamond Quarter, nothing stopping her down here and in the Commons."

"What about you? Still the errand boy, then?"

"Stone, course not! She'd kill me soon as look at me after what we did to Beraht. Nah, I'm just keeping to myself, making my own trouble. I'm getting real good at it, too."

"How abou-"

"We need the location of this Jarvia, and I would like it _now_," interrupted Tim. "Do you understand, casteless?"

"Sure," said Leske, turning pointedly away from her and facing Billybob squarely. "She's not going to be happy if she finds out I know this, but after Bhelen got Rica out, they've set up a new back door in your old home. It just goes to some storage tunnels, but you can probably find the headquarters through there."

"Thanks ,salroka," said Billybob, grasping his hand. "Good luck."

"Yeah, thanks," Leske said. "Now I'd better get out before one of her people sees me, 'specially with you. Uh, tell me how it goes, though."

They watched him disappear into the rows of hovels.

Xox

On the one hand, Leske's betrayal was a vicious and thoroughly nasty shock to Billybob's mind. On the other hand... Billybob couldn't think of another hand. This was just one hundred per cent pure misery.

No, wait. On the other hand, it gave him yet another reason why he wanted to leave Orzammar forever and never, ever come back to this Stone-forsaken shithole. As if he really needed another reason, that was.

"I'm sorry about what he did," said Alistair, somewhat clumsily. Billybob grunted, and kicked Leske's body.

"Bloody sodding idiot," he muttered. "I hate this place."

Xox

"Look, mister noble lord," said Billybob angrily, "we've won the Provings for you, cleaned out the Carta for you," _killed my best friend for you,_ "and now you're sending us on a bloody impossibly mission for what, exactly?"

"Brosca!" snapped Tim. "Keep your disrespectful thoughts to yourself!" And then, to Lord Harrowmont: "He does have a point, however. The chance of this mission succeeding is fractionally small; surely we have done enough to secure your place as king?"

Billybob later reflected that it was probably his little temper tantrum that had secured Harrowmont's decision. Huh. He decided that he couldn't really care less anyway.

Xox

"The Paragon Branka's disgraced husband, correct?" said Tim as they approached the dwarf. (Alistair could only note the intense flaming red of his hair – and his mass of beard – and felt a little relieved that his ginger-ness was not _so_ severe.)

The dwarf looked at her through narrowed yes. "Aye, that's right. And I know you, too – the exiled princess, right? Guess you're the Wardens that Harrowmont's sending into the Deep Roads, huh? Say, can I ask you a favour?"

"I suppose you're a step higher than that casteless traitor I talked to, so yes. Do go ahead," said Tim, sighing. "What is it?"

Xox

Tim had not realised just how many darkspawn lurked in the darkness of the Deep Roads. The tunnels were crawling with them; no wonder her people had been driven back to Orzammar. She expertly dispatched another genlock with a thrust of her knife, and silently wondered at the sheer hopelessness of it all. With all the politics and honour back in her city, it wasn't so surprising how often the endless war had taken a back seat to blackmail and maintaining the multiple factions in the spy network. Even the Warrior Caste rarely ventured so far – few darkspawn dared to go near the dwarven stronghold of Orzammar, and few warriors felt the need to pursue them into the darkness.

Stone, she wanted to be Queen – not only that, she was a Commander already – and she hadn't even known what was beyond Aeducan Thaig. Someone was going to have to take a stand. For the first time, looking down through a chasm at caverns through caverns of the swarming creatures, she felt a tremor of uncertainty contemplating a task. She'd been down in the Deep Roads before, of course, but never as far as this...

"Like the bleedin' plague, aren't they?" said Oghren, beside her. "Used to get through a couple sodding hundred a day, back when I was fighting out here."

"Really now," said Tim, thinking about it and wondering how much of those two hundred were the imaginary products of alcohol. Even so, with a few more Commanders and a lot more warriors, maybe... She shook her head. Now was not the time.

"Tim?" said Alistair from ahead. Tim looked up, suddenly feeling a little dizzy (presumably from the height and the darkspawn count). "And Oghren? Are you coming? I think there's some giant spiders in here, and they're... really giant... aurgh!"

"Your boy could do with a little toughening up, if you know what I mean," said Oghren as they jogged to catch up with the rest. "Sounds like he could use a little pike-polishing, 'cos he smells like no-one's ever cleaned it befo-"

"Finish that sentence and your intestines will be shoved so far up your throat that you won't be able to talk without spewing out of your own armpits," said Tim. "And please for the love of the Stone, don't say, 'But I already do that.'"

"Heh, but I al- oh."

Xox

The hours went by. Alistair and Wynne especially looked more and more uncomfortable with every minute that passed, and Billybob remembered that they'd lived on the surface for their whole lives. It probably wasn't too much of a stretch to say that they were as unused to the Roads as he was to the topside. But... he'd begun to rather like it up there, whereas these humans were getting worse as they went along...

"These halls must have been truly grand when the dwarves lived here," said Wynne to him.

"Yeah, maybe," Billybob said. It was probably twelve different kinds of blasphemy, but by now he was willing to swap the chance of seeing the so-called grand halls for a permanent life under the sky. "Bet the casteless never got a look-in, though."

"I didn't realise that things were so... squalid, in Dust Town. Has it always been so bad?"

"Pretty much. You know what – with all the nugshit that goes down there, I wouldn't be surprised if no-one even remembered there were darkspawn out there. I didn't." Sure, everyone had heard of them just like they'd heard of the Legion of the Dead, but when your greatest worries were how much gold your mother had spent on ale the last month and whether Beraht had found out Leske had talked you into swindling him out of fifty silvers' worth of spearheads, those things just weren't really important any more.

He was glad to be out of it. Trading that life for the endless exhilaration of fighting darkspawn? There was no comparison. (Pity it was _endless_, really.)

Xox

"Someone, help? Please?" said Alistair.

Tim looked up. "Oh. There you are."

"You know what, I really, _really_ don't like these spiders. I think they're planning something for me... and it's probably not going to be a nice mug of soup. Can you cut me down?"

"I'm sure I would like to if I could, but you _are_ very high up... hmm. I will ask the mage Wynne to use magic."

As it turned out, Wynne was a little stuck on what to do with a man strung onto the ceiling of a cave with virtually unbreakable spider silk. None of her mage training back at the Tower or anything in her long years of experience had prepared her for this situation.

"I don't know what I can do to help," she said, scratching her head. "Most of my spells are used for healing, and the only one that might be of any use is the stonefist one."

"Isn't that wonderful," said Tim sourly. "I don't suppose you two can do any better than crushing his skull in?"

"Aye, I could throw my axe up and cut him out myself," said Oghren. "Don't worry 'bout a thing. You can trust my aim, for sure."

"Yeah, and I could try the same with these knives. Well, if they hurt him it'll do less damage than Oghren's axe," said Billybob.

Tim sighed heavily. "No, I suppose it was a waste of time even asking. Hmm... how intelligent are these spiders, would you say? Do they understand our language? I suppose not."

"I don't think so. I tried asking one if I was going to be their lunch, but they didn't say anything," Alistair called. "Although maybe that was because you killed them all."

"Alright then," Billybob said, "how about I throw my knife up there and cut his arm out, and then I throw my other one up and he catches it and cuts himself out? And if I miss Wynne can just heal him."

"Did you say 'out' or 'off'? And what do you mean, 'and if I miss'? It will still _hurt_!" said Alistair.

"He's wearing the right armour for it," said Oghren. "Not even a bleeding risk of that. Stop yer whining, boy."

"Yes, and I suppose the only alternative is making a triple dwarven tower on top of an old lady," said Tim. "But _you_ won't be doing the throwing, duster. And I am not even going to comment on your 'catching the knife' idea."

"Er, Tim? I... don't like this plan," said Alistair, apprehensively eyeing the small knife in her hand.

"I'd rather you were given an easily healed flesh wound than be eaten by the spiders," said Tim, and threw the knife. A few strands of webbing parted before it hit the stone ceiling and clattered onto the floor.

"No, I'm still up here," Alistair said.

"Looks like we're gonna be here for a few days," said Oghren.

Xox

"Thanks, Tim," said Alistair, putting a web-covered arm around her shoulders. "Oh. I think I just stuck myself to you. Wait... is this awkward? I'm getting possible awkward vibes from this."

Tim experimentally wrenched her gloves away from the sticky splintmail. "No, we're fine. That was the answer to both questions, by the way." It wasn't _quite_ true, because although it might not have been awkwardness there was definitely _something_ she didn't quite want hanging around her thoughts like invisible cobwebs, and... and what? She shouldn't have a problem with a little dishonesty.

"Oh, in that case, I'll just leave this here... and it's not because I think the glue's stuck to your helmet."

"I think," said Tim firmly, "that you need a change of armour. Now." She turned to other three walking behind them and ordered them to keep a lookout, and then rummaged in her pack for some spare armour. (Thanks to the combined magic of lockpicks, the glut of strangely similar chests full of battle supplies scattered all over the count, and the easy-carry-weight-and-mass-removing bags the workings of which only Hosomaki vaguely understood, she'd built up quite a collection of stolen armour. You always had to be ready for the next sale on the black market.)

"But I like my splintmail!" said Alistair, wide-eyed. "... also, I just touched it and it's sticking to my gauntlets."

"Exactly." She held out a few pieces of chainmail. "Go take off that dirty armour and put this on before the spiders come back."

"What, right now? I'm not sure I'm comfortable with this..."

"Oghren, stop leering at him," said Tim without turning around. "Alistair, I don't want you to do something silly like stick yourself to a golem or encase yourself in a suit of deep stalkers! I'm not going to throw your armour _away_, you realise?"

"Yes, I understand," said Alistair meekly, struggling out of the chestpiece and hoping that the light was too dim for Tim to see him by. Tim, for her part, glared at him before realising that she probably shouldn't be staring so hard.

"Do you ever wash this?" Tim said, picking up the splintmail and stuffing it into the bag. "It's _filthy_."

"This chainmail is all cold and jangly," grumbled Alistair. "And I did wash it! Twice, in fact!"

"I doubt I want to know how long you've had it for."

Xox

The corruption was everywhere – great lumps of stinking flesh that clung to every surface, air that felt as thick as grease and tasted like it too, and the ever-present darkspawn and their guttural battle cries that haunted the dead catacombs. The creatures had been joined by corrupted golems and strange spirits as they passed through the ghost city of Ortan Thaig, and by a growing sense of foreboding as they zigzagged their way through the Dead Trenches. The three dwarves seemed unfazed – indeed, they seemed to be growing more and more into their roles in the team as the tunnels darkened – but the same couldn't be said of Alistair and Wynne. Still, after countless aching hours of walking and fighting, even the dwarves were beginning to feel claustrophobic in these caves. The eerie chanting was the just the icing on the darkspawn-tainted cake.

"Did you hear that?" said Alistair, edging behind Tim.

"It sounds as if there is a woman trapped here," Wynne said, frowning slightly. "I suppose we should go further in?"

"Strange. I can't see any darkspawn around here," said Billybob. He shrugged. "I guess we're heading towards whoever's moaning back there anyway, see if we can't figure out who's down there."

Xox

Billybob was not one for nerves; he was more for the heat of battle and the exhilaration of killing darkspawn and not being killed himself. But creepy chanting women with the taint apparent in their blotched skin, clouded eyes and rotting stench were something that no dwarf should ever have to face. He looked at his group nervously. Alistair was staring at the woman with faint horror, which made Billybob feel a little less alone, while Tim next to him seemed simply bored and waiting impatiently for Oghren to get over his wife's betrayal. Wynne looked concerned. (Then again, she always looked somewhat concerned.)

Still, even the creepy chanting woman had been less of a horror than the broodmother.

Billybob decided that he didn't like tentacles.

Xox

Branka was not what Alistair and Wynne had been expecting, to put it lightly. Tim and Billybob had heard a few more stories about the Paragon's activities (however sacrilegious they were, people still seemed to enjoy telling them...), but even they were more than slightly shocked to see the woman herself. The shock had then turned into outraged horror when they realised that she had locked them into the caves. This affected some of the team better than the others – Oghren, for example, had already charged off in a berserker rage into a fray of jabbering darkspawn, and that had practically forced Wynne into jogging after him in order to keep him somewhat conscious and alive.

"Well, I suppose we were going this way anyway," said Alistair.

"What did she mean, tests?" Billybob said, wondering if he should join Oghren. It looked rather fun. "That doesn't sound good. Tests of intelligence? Ingenu-nu-ee-ty?"

"Yes, it's lucky that you did not come here alone, Brosca," Tim said, marching on forwards.

"Surely it can't be worse than that... that Broodmother," Alistair said, shuddering. He sighed and followed her. "We must be nearly there... surely. Tim, what are we going to do when we feel this Anvil? Branka... she left her own family to turn into those things just to find this Anvil. Are you sure... this is right?"

"That Harrowmont had better appreciate this," muttered Billybob. "And I dunno what we're going to do at the end. We need her support, don't we?"

"Yes," said Tim, attempting a diplomatic answer to both questions at the same time.

Xox

"I'm sure there must be more to Caridin's traps than simply bringing down these golems," said Tim after what seemed to be the last of an army of golems had crumbled. "He was not a Paragon for nothing."

"Yeah, but Branka's a Paragon too, and look what she did to us," said Billybob. "Where'd Wynne and Oghren go?"

"I think I can see them up ahead," Alistair said, squinting. There were the definite sounds of battle, and was that some kind of fireworks display? Flashes of blue light lit up the tunnel walls every few seconds. Exciting stuff, thought Billybob.

"Come on then, let's go catch up," he said.

Not a moment later, he was thrown painfully onto his backside by something gigantic (or maybe just very volatile) exploding from the room up ahead.

"Nice one," said Oghren, chuckling. Billybob grunted and tried to get up again.

"What was that?" Alistair said.

"It seemed to be some sort of enchanted forge," Wynne said, helping Billybob up. "It summoned ghosts, somehow. I suppose this is one of Caridin's traps that your wife mentioned?"

Oghren snorted. "She still needs her ol' Oghren to sort these things out for her. Come on, then. Let's go."

"Did you defeat it on your own?" said Tim, impressed. It _had_ been a rather large explosion.

"I held Oghren back in a force field until it was safe to strike," explained Wynne. The others made various noises of understanding agreement.

Xox

"And is there a reason why your guilt should trouble me?"

"Yeah, 'cos he has an army of golems behind him," muttered Billybob. He nudged Tim. "What, you're alright with making yourself a bodyguard of slaves? Guess it's not so much different from what you had back in Orzammar."

"Excuse me?" said Tim icily. The golems watched them impassively.

"Tim, you can't let this happen," said Alistair, stepping forwards. He reached out to take her arm, but stopped short before they touched. He stepped back awkwardly. "You're really going to let Branka get away with this? Even now that you know how this Anvil works?"

"It is necessary," Tim said, over the sounds of Oghren protesting.

"No, it's not. You can't do this. I didn't think you'd just bend to Branka's wishes like that, but... why would you keep this thing? It can't be worth all of this."

"We need the Paragon for our troops. We need the Anvil for the golems. Do you honestly think we can win this war without their support? I am not bending to anyone's wishes but the Grey Wardens."

"I agree with Alistair," Wynne said. "What the Anvil does – enslaving souls – cannot be the answer. There are other ways to fight back."

"We have been at war far longer than this Blight on your topside lands," said Tim testily. "I know what needs to be done."

"Yeah, but we haven't exactly won it," said Billybob.

"Look," said Alistair, "I... I don't know what you've been doing since we came to Orzammar, but you- you've changed. I know you've always been the practical one out of all of us, but this isn't just practical – it's... bad. Like really, really bad."

"Eloquent as always," snapped Tim, turning away from him. Changed? No – maybe just letting a facade slip, but...

"Hey, Miss Aeducan," growled Billybob. "It's three on one-" he glanced uneasily towards Oghren- "and it doesn't matter if you're the only one who knows where we are, me and Alistair are Wardens too. So... yeah. We're destroying the Anvil like a pile of dried bronto crap and you're not going to argue."

"Oh, really?" said Tim, trying to ignore whatever burning feeling was attempting to escape from her throat. "Do you honestly think I'd back down just like that? You cast-"

"No, I don't," said Alistair. He sighed, suddenly feeling exhausted, and looked straight back into Tim's eyes. "But I'm hoping you can try."

"Oghren, I'm sorry," Wynne said. "But we cannot allow this slavery to continue-"

"If you must be so foolish, I'd prefer that we got this over sooner rather than later!" said Tim, whirling around. She stumbled on a stone; Alistair caught her shoulder and she shrugged him off angrily. "Apologies and idealism are not going to help us, and the faster you good little children realise that, the better!"

"Caridin, we're gonna help you," said Billybob.

Xox

"My condolences," said Tim stiffly.

"Yeah, you don't mean it," said Oghren. "Let's get going, shall we?"

"Good."

Xox

There was a lot of talk, a bit of fighting, and another slew of deaths. And then it was over.

"It's her dream come true," said Oghren, shrugging and turning to leave.

"Wait- what? Is Tim staying here?"

"She's a princess all over again, isn't she? Alright, not a princess now, but a noble. I thought this was what she'd been working up to the whole sodding time."

"Tim?" said Alistair, his state of mind now passing from 'surprised' to 'what the eh just happened?'.

Tim was, on the whole, very pleased with this turn of events. She hadn't been banking fully on having her name restored until at least after the Blight when she would have won more than enough honour with the whole Blight-quelling deal, but this unexpected Bhelen-Harrowmont throne debacle had been quite the windfall. Getting back into the family business so quickly almost made up for the days of running around Dust Town and the Deep Roads.

What else?

Maybe she'd spent enough time under a mask to believe in it herself. Even so, as long as-

"Tim?" said Alistair again. "Aren't you coming back with us?"

Tim's mind was an ordered, organised place with colour-coded cross-referencing and back-up boot knives. The next few moments were slightly overwhelming for her internal librarian.

The first thought was, "Oh." It was just something about Alistair's face that took her aback; something eternally surprising that involved his worried eyebrows and lips and hair and awful, awful jokes that made her heartbeat pause and then race erratically to catch up. Which was all very silly, really, because why in the Stone would her body choose this moment in all history to play havoc with her cardiovascular system? It was probably very bad for the health.

The second thought was, "No, of course this is what I wanted," which was immediately followed up with, "But I'm not sure if you should believe that, but since you probably shouldn't believe anything I've told you up until now, I don't know what you want to make of that." Of course this was what she wanted. Why shouldn't he believe that? There was something beating at her chest that hurt (she couldn't feel it in her body, but it still hurt all the same, which was even stranger) whenever she looked at him and wanted to tell him something, _anything_, and there was nothing that she could say that was in the all-clear because... well, what was there?

She could say that she'd miss him and the others, but she was home and wanted to stay there. It would almost be true, too. And then he'd leave because he was a good Grey Warden and a good person and had good duties to do for the good of Thedas, and... the thought of seeing him go was as confusingly distressing as any other, but it would be alright because she was where she should be. In a few months, weeks perhaps, Harrrowmont would be killed in a Deep Roads inspection accident, by which time Orzammar would be so uneasy and restless that the people would have already latched onto the reinstated Aeducan lady as their new Queen. That had been the plan, and she couldn't have asked for a better set-up. (There was some other nagging thoughts about the darkspawn, the casteless, the endless battle and the lack of warriors, but those weren't really relevant right now.)

Or she could say that he needed to leave because, ancestors' armpits, she'd been leading him on just to see how much power over Ferelden she'd have when she'd put his backside onto the throne, because everyone needed a backup plan and being Queen of Ferelden (practically, if not officially) was as good as any other. Something appealed to her in that one because, well, it was the truth – and she didn't know why (maybe it was related to the first thought and her malfunctioning heart muscle), but keeping up a pretence for Alistair was becoming intolerable for her... something or other. Hmm.

Or she could just go with him. Think up a speech later. That was easy, wasn't it? She could just tell Orzammar that she was out to win glory by defeating an Archdemon and that she'd be back in a few months, and there probably wouldn't be any big repercussions for that. Even dwarves respected Grey Wardens. So what was keeping her back? Apart from the fact that it went completely against her plans and her life-long ambitions, of course, which should really have been reason enough but somehow didn't seem to matter anymore.

Fear of the future, because not even her back-up-back-up-back-up plan had much to say about killing an Archdemon or finding long-lost emotion for a gangly human boy of all things. Fear of compromise, as if the whole Caridin farce hadn't been enough; she wouldn't have backed down for anyone and she'd known it, but Alistair had managed to flip the switch somehow. Fear of being found out - since when had she needed to worry about that? Oh yes, since she'd been unable to lie to someone. Most of all, fear of the new unknown.

Well, she'd never been scared before. Why start now?

Besides, Gorim was still out there. And she'd sworn an oath, and had drank from the Joining chalice. And SacredBob needed to be stopped before he declared himself the idiot Commander of the Grey and spent half the treasury on dog biscuits.

"Yes, of course I'm coming with you," she said. Then she reached up and kissed him.

**to be continued...**

_- I admit that I don't love Tim/Alistair like I love my other pairings, but I do like thinking about it._  
_- Why does everyone love Alistair's splintmail? I am confused._  
_- I'm trying very hard to put amusing bits in but the Deep Roads are so srsbsns (not to mention utterly irritating and OH MAKER I HATE IT) that I just can't._  
_- I HATE ORZAMMAR. Yessss, this chapter is finally finished! I can escape out of that underground hellhole!_


	16. In which everyone is together again

**Part XVI**  
_Everyone gets to Redcliffe, and then everyone gets to Denerim. Booyeah!_

**Xox**

Outside Castle Redcliffe, a small group of adventurers were milling around.

Morrigan was washing her smallclothes in the nearby stream, attempting to get the stench of rotten rabbits kindly infused into them by FlowerPower out of the fabric.

SacredBob was animatedly talking to Leliana about Orlesian masks and whether dragon scales would be a feasible textile choice.

Leliana had made up her mind to find a way to turn her drakeskin samples into fashionable leather armour, no matter the time, effort or cost involved. Maybe there would be smiths in Denerim who could do it for her.

Sten was throwing a stick.

FlowerPower was chasing a stick.

Many leagues away in the far reaches of the Frostback Mountains, Tim was striding confidently down the rocky paths with an arm around Alistair.

Alistair was stumbling clumsily down the rocky paths with an arm around Tim.

Wynne was trying to find the small bottles of ale that she had brought with her from the Tranquils' brewery.

Billybob was trying to decipher a map. (Unhappily enough, it was a map of the Anderfels and thus his efforts were in vain.)

Oghren decided that he rather liked Wynne's ale.

Not so many leagues away were the group of elves crossing the bridge to Redcliffe, a moving stone statue tramping along behind them. The statue was holding a dead pheasant in one massive hand.

Kalamari was chattering about the awesomeness of werewolves.

Cel was listening.

Zevran was laughing, and thinking that he should visit this Circle Tower at least once before he died.

Hosomaki thought that Antiva sounded like an interesting place.

Slowly but surely, the three branches of the Blight-quelling team were converging upon Redcliffe.

Xox

"Hey there!" said SacredBob, waving at the group approaching them. "I knew you'd make it. Spiffing to see you all – woah, what's this?"

"This is Shale," said Kalamari proudly. "You sent us to get him, didn't you?"

"Yeah, though I didn't know golems looked like that," SacredBob said. "But hey, cool. Go inside and have a bath or something. You haven't heard anything from Tim, have you? No messenger pigeons or weird Fade messages for our mage about her?"

"No," said Hosomaki. "But I would very much like a bath..."

"Cel, you and Shale didn't kill any pigeons with notes attached, did you?" Kalamari said worriedly. Cel glanced at Shale and shook her head.

"I recommend using some proper foam with that bath," Leliana said. She took Hosomaki by the arm and led him away. "If you'd like to borrow mine, I'd be happy to oblige..."

"Ah, I will go too then," said Zevran, briefly shaking Bob's hand and following them.

Xox

Billybob was not happy. First off, Rica now hated his guts for what he'd helped do to her Bhelen – he'd managed to land her a secure place in House Aeducan thanks to a little conversation between himself and Harrowmont so he supposed that was an improvement over Dust Town, but being almost directly responsible for her beloved's death... Nope, it would have to be a few more decades before he tried visiting again.

Further ahead, Tim was also not quite happy. She was not really one for indecision, and yet right now indecision was the only thing rolling around in her mind. Of course it wasn't the _right_ choice, not when it came to her life's goals and royal ambitions, but maybe it was the better one... for what? She was still trying to think very hard about exactly why it was better that she had willingly abandoned (well, she was going to be back, but it was still a form of abandonment) her noble status for a year or so of tramping around the surface with a ragtag group of idiots.

Alistair was a little distracted; otherwise he would have asked Tim what the matter was. Behind him, Oghren and Wynne were arguing about ale – or at least, who had stolen it. He did have a nagging feeling that he was only pretending to be distracted so that his mind wouldn't pressure him into asking Tim about her life problems and getting back into the whole Orzammar business, though. Well, it didn't matter. The main thing was that he had the 'old' Tim back, not the preoccupied and distant one of the Deep Roads, and he didn't really feel like bringing it up. Although he probably should. He decided just to continue eavesdropping.

Xox

"Ho there!" said Kalamari (again trying to be valiant and noble). "It's you!"

"...yes, quite," said Tim, looking her up and down. Her armour was impressively large and shiny. "I see you have arrived back safely, then?"

"How about Bob and Arl Eamon?" said Alistair, wondering if he would be allowed to wear such nice armour. Maybe he should ask to borrow it someday.

"Yes, they got back before us and found the Ashes and everything!" Kalamari said, beaming and ushering them inside while clanking noisily. The group couldn't help wondering how she managed to stay upright inside that deadweight. "Great, isn't it? Arl Eamon made us all champions for helping him and stuff! I guess I should go and see whether Bob's around; ooh, we can have a proper meeting tonight now that you lot are back! It's so good to see you, you know. Hey, what's your name?"

"Eh?" said Oghren, squinting. (The pure undiluted shininess of Kalamari's metal plate armour was hurting his eyes.)

"Hi, I'm Kalamari! Are you a dwarf? Oh, did you come from Orzammar? That's so cool! How come you came along? Did you ask to come or did Tim force you to? What-"

"The name's Oghren," said a rather dazed Oghren. "How do you even get to move? That's gotta be a whole bronto's worth of silverite on you. I mean, I find this stuff here hard enough to carry already, but-"

"It's not that hard," said Kalamari, furrowing her brow. "I just... do. The only time I really notice is when I'm trying out a technique in battle, anyway... most of the time I barely notice. Anyway, nice to meet you!"

"Woah."

"Okay, cool!" said Kalamari, clapping two gauntleted hands together. "You know, we managed to get a golem to come with us! His name's Shale, and he's probably standing around somewhere in the hall. I don't think Bob's brought anyone back, though... well, he was already the only Warden in his group, maybe that's why. Oh well. Oh yes, I was going to check if he was in so we can have a proper get-together supper and I think he said we need to talk about moving to Denerim? Hmm... well-"

"Did you say you had a golem?" Alistair said, suddenly realising what she had just said.

"Yes, he's really cool! Okay, he does kill rather a lot of birds, but it does help Cel get out of her bad moods... and he's great with the darkspawn, too. Want to meet him?"

"So I heard somewhere that golems are enslaved dwarves," said Billybob.

"Really?"

"Yep."

"Well, Shale's control rod is broken, and he talks and has conversations and everything..."

"So, breaking the rod gives a golem back their free will, is that right?" Tim said.

"Hold on a moment," said Alistair. "Are you saying that if we'd broken those golems' control rods down in the Deep Roads, they would have got their personalities and minds back? So we've just killed a load of mind-controlled dwarves - basically?"

"Yes, although you didn't seem to mind so much in the Carta," said Tim, nudging him.

"They weren't mind-controlled, though..."

"Yeah, but they were practically brainwashed into, y'know, staying alive," Billybob said.

"In that case they should not have attacked us, should they?" Tim said.

"Yeah, but-"

"Guys!" said Kalamari loudly. "I'm going to go find SacredBob and the others, and you guys can all have a bath or something. See you!"

She strode away, clanking. Even Tim had to be impressed at how fast she moved, especially with that giant axe strapped to her back.

Xox

"Meeting started. Get your asses onto chairs fast, because I want to go to bed ASAP."

"What is ASAP?" said Leliana as the rest of the room quickly found and claimed a stool, armchair or dog.

"A very useful word," replied Bob, settling into the most comfortable armchair around. Tim glared at him and pursed her lips. "So we're going to Denerim tomorrow morning. Everyone happy? Right, meeting concluded."

"Excuse me?" said Tim.

"Yeah, that's it," Bob said, shrugging. "Now, if the red-headed dwarf could get off my Mabari, we can all get a nice good night's sleep..."

"Was there even a point to this meeting?"

"Well yeah, 'cos we're going to Denerim tomorrow! What, are you thick or something?"

"Don't be an idiot," Tim snapped. "We have other business to attend to, you realise. At the least, a detailed account of your exploits in finding and using this Urn of Sacred Ashes, reports of the missions Tabris's group have been sent on and not least information on the Grey Wardens' statuses in regards to troops and reputation are needed. Sit down."

"Yes, mother," said Bob, reluctantly sitting back down. "Great."

Xox

Hosomaki had actually fallen asleep halfway through the meeting, and so was heartily embarrassed when Zevran had had to drag him out of his fireside chair to order to move him. It would not have been so embarrassing if he hadn't woken up during this procedure and shrieked, "Don't let the glazed muffins get tangled up with the noodles in Amell's library!" It took a bit of mortified coughing and explanations of how he'd been dreaming about pranking his friends in the Circle Tower before the castle servants were sufficiently reassured that there was no hideous muffin-monster on the prowl.

Xox

"Would it like to go hunting?" said Shale, lumbering down the hallway to catch up with Cel. "After the snobbish dwarf showed off her talent for boring even I, stuck as I was for thirty years in a sickeningly squishy village, I feel some more exciting activities are in order."

"Yeah," said Cel. She waved Kalamari on. "Seen any darkspawn around?"

Shale had not seen any darkspawn, but he did have a great many other suitably squishy targets who could be suitably squished.

"But I can't kill the shem here," said Cel. She looked agonised. "Or the dwarves. Because Kalamari wouldn't like it."

"What, you _don't_ want to kill us all? I'm confused," said a bathrobe-clad SacredBob. Cel whirled around, hissing.

"Perhaps it could take a hint," rumbled Shale, who really just wanted to squash anything as long it had a satisfactory amount of blood in it.

"Sheesh, no need for that," said Bob because Cel had appeared behind him poking something suspiciously like a knife into his back. "I'm just taking a toilet trip! Er, you guys don't happen to know where the toilets are, do you?"

"Let's go," growled Cel, wondering how much Kalamari would miss SacredBob and whether it was worth giving him a non-fatal but pleasingly painful injury.

Xox

"Bob!" called a voice.

"Huh?" said SacredBob, wondering if Cel and Shale had decided to throw him off the ramparts after all. "Wait, don't do it! You'll regret killing me once my dog finds out!"

"I was looking for you," said Leliana. "I've been meaning to talk to you..."

"Oh, hey there." Bob sighed. "Yeah what?"

"Well," said Leliana. She stopped and took in a deep breath. "After what we've been through together, with the dragon and the mountains, I feel... I just wanted to thank you for leading us through all of it. Thank you."

"That's... er, thanks!" said Bob. "I mean, you're totally welcome!"

"And... well, we are close friends, aren't we?"

"I... guess..." said Bob, taking a step back.

"I feel that I can really be myself around you," Leliana said, moving forwards. Bob took another step back. "I always feel safe when I'm with you, and I've enjoyed talking to you and being with you so much these past weeks."

"Nice," said Bob.

"Am I right in thinking that you feel the same way?" said Leliana, looking much too hopeful for Bob's taste.

"... er..."

Xox

"Is that Leliana?" said Hosomaki sleepily. There was another sob that may or may not have been produced by an upset woman in the room next door. Hosomaki squinted into the darkness for a while before realising that he didn't, in fact, have wall-piercing vision.

"Mm," said Zevran even more sleepily. (This may have been because he was actually asleep.)

"It is!" said Hosomaki. He sat up valiantly. "I should go and see what's wrong!"

"Yes, yes..." Zevran mumbled, rolling over to take over Hosomaki's now vacated side of the bed. Hosomaki ignored him and put on his easiest-to-put-on robes.

"I'll be back soon," he said, kissing Zevran and rushing out of the room.

Xox

"Er, I thought Alistair didn't even want to be King," said SacredBob. "Does he?"

"If it's necessary, then I can see no other choice – regretful as it may be," said Tim.

"Regretful as it may be?"

"Very," Tim said, sighing. "Is this is this Eamon is suggesting?"

"Yes, and what you're suggesting too, from the sounds of it," Bob said. "Now, if you're not in here to worship my glory on your knees (and when I say worship, I mean _worship_) kindly get out of my room so I can sleep."

"This isn't your room, you idiot."

Bob looked around. "Oh yeah. I only came in to talk to Alistair, y'know. Hence the confusion. Not that you care or anything, but-"

"I really don't," said Tim, looking pointedly towards the door. Then she cocked her head. "What is that noise? It sounds perhaps like a girl crying. Perhaps Alistair has done something foolish again."

"Speaking of Alistair, do _you_ know where the toilets are here?"

Xox

"Oi, I thought I said that I was leading the group!" said Bob, elbowing Tim.

Alistair, who had managed to get himself in between Bob and Tim, sighed. "I thought you two agreed to lead it, you know, together."

"We are," said Tim primly. "Except, as we agreed, in a battle situation in which case you defer to me since I plainly have more combat and commanding experience than anyone else here."

"Yeah, but how come you're walking in front of me then?"

"That is no-one's fault but your own, since you obviously cannot keep up with the rest of us."

"I don't think we even need anyone to lead us when we're walking on a road!" said Alistair, trying to fight the urge to slap his own forehead.

"You'd be surprised," said Wynne behind him. "I believe Billybob has just fallen off."

Xox

The way to Denerim was rather longer than Kalamari had expected.

Not kissing Cel had been rather harder than Kalamari had expected.

All in all, Kalamari's expectations hadn't quite lived up to their promises.

They had got about halfway to Denerim with the rest of the Wardens and allies without any great showdown of willpower when the shrieks had attacked. No warning, no alarm – just Tim shoving her awake and shouting orders in her ear, and then there was a monster in her face and claws tearing down her arm.

"What is the bloody point of a night-time watch if we get ambushed anyway?" Kalamari blearily heard SacredBob shout from some distance away.

"You were the nugbrain who couldn't wake up to the alarm call!" snapped Tim. The next moment she was at Kalamari's side plunging a dagger into the shriek trying to eat Kalamari's fingers. "Tabris, what are you doing?"

Kalamari realised that she was standing very still and very uselessly. "Um. Sorry," she muttered. Then she wondered where her axe was.

"Wake up!" Tim said, and strode away.

"Huh?"

Five minutes later, Kalamari was about halfway to full consciousness and the battle was completely over, which was a bit of a disappointment really. She left Tim, SacredBob and Sten to their argument over leadership and watch shifts and wandered back to her tent. She was still pondering over where she had left her battleaxe and if Alistair still had her lovingly-polished armour when she quite literally fell over Cel.

Picking herself up from the shriek she had landed on, she was surprised to notice that Cel had not even tried to retaliate. She was just... sitting there, crying.

"Wait, what?" said Kalamari out loud. She was not exactly used to seeing Cel in this state (the understatement of the Age).

There was a small sniffle.

"Are you… okay?" said Kalamari, more than a little worried about this strange new event. She sat down next to her and looked at the dead shriek-ghoul on the grass.

Cel snorted in disgust. It was probably enough of an answer.

"I mean, you're obviously not okay, so that was a stupid question. But… what happened? Is it the ghoul? Who was it?"

"Someone I knew." Crying had made her voice even more guttural than usual, the words sounding more like the scrape of nails on a blackboard. She winced at the sound and coughed to try and clear it. Bloody droplets splattered onto her hand.

"I guess he – or she – was Dalish, then," said Kalamari, helping to apply a healing poultice onto the gash in her stomach. "Were you very close? And we should probably get Wynne to clean that up…"

Cel laughed, more tears falling. "Just found out he wanted to be. Told me he loved me. Then I killed him."

"I'm sorry," Kalamari said, because there wasn't anything else to say. She hugged her from the side and didn't let go when Cel half-heartedly elbowed her. "What was his name?"

"Tamlen. Don't know what he saw in me. Guess he was even crazier than I am."

"You're not crazy."

Cel snorted again.

"And don't be silly! There's a lot to see in you… if that makes any sense…"

"Just look at this."

Perhaps it was the realisation that Cel _knew_ that her mind was broken, or the whole surreal affair of comforting a crying Cel, or perhaps it was just the way that the rain plastered her hair to her face and mingled with the sweat, blood and tears and helped the spider-like tattoos stand out even more than usual on her pale face. In any case, Kalamari found that she _was_ looking, and there was something in that moment that she couldn't quite place her finger on or give a name to. She quickly looked down and hugged her tighter.

"I'm sorry," she said again, because she felt like she needed to say something and there was nothing else coherent in her brain.

"Why are _you_ apologising? Shut up," Cel muttered, though through her sadness her words lacked their typical venom. They sat in silence. The others in the camp seemed to be far too engrossed in putting up the tents and sitting in their shelter to give them much attention.

Kalamari didn't know how much time had passed, but when she looked up again the rain had mostly passed, and the moon was softly visible behind deep clouds. She sighed.

"What's your name?" she said.

"Martini."

"Okay." She didn't feel like there was more to be said to that.

"How about you, squid-face?"

Kalamari glared. "Hey! Just because that big werewolf called me that whenever does not mean that it's my name! Just because my parents thought that foreign dishes had the most elegant names… gahhh…"

"Yeah, shut up," said Cel, leaning onto her shoulder. Kalamari wasn't too sure what to say to that, so she kissed her.

In hindsight it wasn't really the most likely solution, but at least it worked in context.

"What?" said Cel, pushing her away and looking dangerously close to punching her in the face.

"Well... " said Kalamari, not very explanatively. "You..."

Cel looked at her for a moment. Then she reached for Kalamari's waist. "Yeah, fine. Get back here."

It was very romantic.

Xox

"In any other circumstance, I would have said 'that is pretty hot', but in this case I don't think I can muster up the courage," said SacredBob. The male members of the party were staring as one at the spectacle on the other side of the field.

"That's hot," said Oghren.

"Dude, I know you're stealing my beer, but you don't have to steal my lines too."

Xox

Life continued. Another early start and another day on the road.

"Leliana, how are you?" said Hosomaki. "If you ever want someone to talk to, I'd be happy to help. Are you alright now?"

"I'm fine," said Leliana, smiling. "I... I just made a mistake, that was all."

"Hmm," Hosomaki said. "I'm glad to hear that."

Some time later, Hosomaki had moved on to idly conversing with Zevran.

"... so I think she's fine now."

"Ah," said Zevran, who had not been listening to much of the last conversation. "This is the second time Leliana has been shot down, no?"

"She is very pretty though," said Hosomaki somewhat wistfully. "It's very unfair for her..."

"Yes, I suppose she is," said Zevran. "Are you intent on pursuing her, or something to that effect?"

"That's okay by you, right?"

Zevran shrugged. "Go ahead, by all means. I won't stop you."

Xox

They reached Denerim the next day, and spent another day wandering around the inns in confusion before SacredBob managed to locate Arl Eamon's estate. Tim, of course, had already settled into the largest and most comfortable room with Alistair.

"Why didn't you bring us all here yesterday?" said Leliana.

"Private business," said Tim rather tersely, glancing at Alistair.

"Alright then," said SacredBob, rolling his eyes. Leliana shot him a glance and quickly exited the room. "What's the plan?"

**to be continued...**

_A/N: Woah boy, have I been busy these two months. This chapter has been in limbo for far too many weeks; having not played with these characters for the last few months has meant that I've almost forgotten how I used to write them, so I apologise for any glaring OOC moments! I may have to go back and edit this later once I get more into the swing of Dragon Age fic. This is probably a very important chapter (at least for Cel) and I feel like I've failed to do it much justice.  
_

_By the by, Hosomaki and the muffins/noodles are a small reference to his AU backstory oneshot that I wrote for the kink meme, and can be fully understood if you read the oneshot in question (posted here as well). I'm surprisingly fond of Amell (and the whole Hosomaki/Amell/Anders thingy), even if he doesn't technically exist. Or have a name._


	17. In which everyone splits up again

**Part XVII  
**_Anora's rescue team is dispatched - but not without a good ol' argument and the perpetual leadership problem._

**Xox  
**

"We do not need more than one Warden on this mission!" said Tim, glaring at SacredBob across the extravagant dining table.

Most other beings sitting in his place would have at least blinked, but Bob seemed not to notice. "-into his estate a few years back and alright then missy, you're not going."

Tim shook her head, affronted, and decided to blame SacredBob's immunity on his lack of a brain to process it. A recent democratic vote had put the leadership matter to rest for the time being – unfortunately enough, the vote had come up as an exact tie between the two of them plus a single vote for FlowerPower.

"We have already been through this. The first meeting with Queen Anora is a diplomatic matter, and as a practised politician I am clearly the best suited for this job. We cannot risk bad impressions with the monarchy!"

"Wait," said Alistair, frowning in confusion. "How does that mean that we can't come with you?"

"The plan calls for undercover stealth," said Tim. "Again, with my training in that area I am more suited for this than Cousland, for example. To go back to your point, the more Wardens there are, the more likely it will be that we will be apprehended."

"Wouldn't it be, you know, the easier it'll be that you'll be wrestled to the ground with a knife in your chest?"

"Even with more forces, we cannot hope to overcome the entire guard. Thus we are also risking less loss of Wardens."

"So you expect us to believe that you're being all nice and self-sacrificial, huh?" said Oghren, looking up. "Bleedin' nobles..."

"If I may," said Zevran, "perhaps I could go along with our Warden here? I suppose I would not be as valuable as one of you Wardens, and I'm sure my own training in this undercover stealth would not go amiss."

"Yeah, and keep an eye on anything that our noble Tim might try with the Queen," said Bob. "Hey, does anyone have a hammer?"

The table, as one, gave him a quizzical look. (Some, such as Morrigan, Tim and Shale, skipped past the quizzical and into the 'Let's murder him now' look.)

"It would've been so cool to bang one of those down like in those badass trial scenes," he explained. "Anyway, bringing an assassin along sounds like a good idea. We're bringing more than three people, though. How abou-"

"What do you mean, _we_? You are not a part of this mission!" said Tim.

"Yes I am, shut up."

"Um, you're not a rogue though..." said Hosomaki from the other side of the room.

"What was that?" said Zevran.

"You know, rogues have Stealth as a talent but warriors don't, and I thought SacredBob was a Templar-forward slash-Berseker warrior. Isn't he?"

"Bob's a berserker? He doesn't seem like the type to me," said Leliana, sitting on the other side of Hosomaki.

"No, but I thought he opened up that skill path for the stat gains," Hosomaki said.

"Is someone talking over there?" said SacredBob.

"Yes, I've heard you don't have stealth training," said Zevran, who had decided not to spend too much time thinking about Hosomaki's strange pronouncements. "And that you open up skilled pathways for berserk gains."

"Er... no," said Bob.

"No? For which part?" said Zevran.

"The whole thing. But I'm going in there and killing Howe whether Tim likes it or not, and I don't think anyone else is going to stop me."

A small uproar of chatter greeted those words, not least from Tim. "Which part of 'stealth mission' do you not understand?" she hissed.

"Oh, you can do the stealth," said Bob. "But I'm not."

"So you want them to leave you behind or... something?" said Alistair, looking confused (again).

"Yeah, whatever. I don't really care."

"What, a suicide mission?" said Alistair, his expression becoming even more confused.

"You have not thought any of this through," said Tim disparagingly. "I am even more convinced that you should not be let anywhere near this task."

"Er... shut up." Bob stood up. "Hi everyone. As you may know, Arl Howe murdered my family some time ago and so I'm going to kill him right back. Also, Tim and Zevran and a couple of others are going to rescue Queen Anora. I don't particularly care if these two missions are going to be connected or not, but that's it."

"Well, I don't think many of us knew that," said Zevran, at the same time as Tim's outraged "It is not a matter of family honour! You are putting the entire mission and state of the Wardens at risk with your own personal matters, and you are a complete fool if you expect us to agree with your plans!"

"What do you mean, own personal matters?" said Billybob. "Oh yeah, because it's not like _you_ didn't have any of those on our last trip!"

"And what, exactly, are you talking about?" said Tim, smiling dangerously. Billybob didn't notice.

"It's 'cos of you that my sister's-"

"Guys!" shouted Kalamari, saving Billybob from a nasty fate. She stood up as well. "Stop arguing!"

Nothing happened. Kalamari sighed. The next moment, two daggers had buried themselves in the wall behind SacredBob, having narrowly missed his neck.

"Er... yes?"

Kalamari beamed and Cel got up to collect her daggers. "As I was saying, stop arguing!"

"Do you have something to add to this discussion, Tabris? So what is your view?" said Tim in the frosty tone of voice that implied, 'This is a completely rhetorical question and if you have any intelligence in that ditzy head of yours, you will stop talking now'.

Kalamari's head was certainly very ditzy. "Well, you can't expect to get very far into the castle without someone who knows heavy armour," she said. "Like me! Or SacredBob! And you'll probably need a mage as well. I mean, obviously you stealth people are going to be alright getting in, but it's almost certain that you'll be caught and then if you don't have a shield or any magic, you're going to be bunnyfucked. But I'm guessing that you'd prefer humans if you're pretending to be commissioned guards and sorry Bob, but you _are_ going to compromise the mission... so let's say Alistair and Morrigan along with you two. Done!"

There was a silence that was not solely to do with Cel's knife-throwing antics.

"Can we have a re-vote?" said Hosomaki. "I want to vote for Kala."

Xox

Some time later, conversation had progressed to the point 'SacredBob vs. The World'.

"Does Alistair even want to go? Come on, I'm begging to be sent on this suicide mission and you're not letting me? Y'know, I don't even know why I'm begging. I'm the fucking leader, guys."

"And as the equally authoritative co-leader and the clearly more objective in regards to this task, I am vetoing this idea."

"To be honest, SacredBob is welcome to go instead of me," said Alistair.

"Nyer nyer nyer," Bob said in Tim's general direction.

"Stop being so childish. You are not going."

"I'll give you a barrel of ale Howe stole from my castle when he came in and brutally disembowelled my eight year old nephew," Bob said.

"Done," Oghren said.

After some more 'friendly' discussion – which was severely policed by Cel's various threatening sharp edges – SacredBob was cleared for the mission, on a promise that running off to find Arl Howe would happen if and only if Anora was safely clear of the estate. Of course, Tim, Zevran and Morrigan didn't exactly expect him to keep that promise, but at least they could prepare in advance for that eventuality.

"Okay, great!" said Kalamari. "How about everyone else? Happy?"

"Who else trained as a rogue here apart from Zevran and Tim, anyway?" said Hosomaki. "Didn't Leliana take the Bard spec?"

"A rogue?" said Zevran.

"It is a class of fighting," Wynne said. "Hosomaki, I am not sure that non-mages will-"

"Oh yes, I forgot whether she decided on Dex or Cun in the end..." continued Hosomaki.

"Uh, pardon?" Leliana said. She wasn't sure that she'd ever been presented with such a choice.

"Presumably 'twas Dexterity, as I had always assumed that high intelligence came with high Cunning," Morrigan said.

"... Cun?" said Zevran, suppressing a snigger.

"Er, guys? This is stupid," said SacredBob loudly. "We-"

"Yes, I know, we can't have more than four people in a party anyway," Hosomaki said. "But I was just wondering."

"There were five of us in Orzammar when Oghren came," Wynne said. "Perhaps the rules are different now."

"We are not taking another member in this group!" said Tim. "In fact, it would be preferable without Cousland here."

"I quite agree," said Morrigan, glancing scornfully towards him.

"Yes, we know you think that," said Kalamari, a little exasperated. "But he does wear the heavy armour better than Alistair does! And he'll just moan... and moan... and moan... if he doesn't go..."

"Oi!" said Bob. "That's just rude."

Xox

"Maker's sockpuppets!" shouted Kalamari. "Just go! I am actually sick of you guys complaining! I bet Queen Anora would be as well, since she's the one stuck in that batbugger's cellar!"

"This is idiotic," muttered Tim. Morrigan tapped her foot and scowled in agreement - Bob didn't notice. Zevran gave him a jovial pat on the shoulder for encouragement.

Xox

"Okay, I just want to say that I'm going to visit my family today," Kalamari said once Anora's rescue party had departed. "And Cel's coming with me, and anyone else who wants to as well! It'll be a fun day out in the Alienage."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" said Hosomaki nervously.

"Cel, don't stab him," Kalamari said. "Oh, I'm sure it'll be fine!"

"Maybe we could take a look around Denerim as well," said Alistair. "I mean, it might be a bit rude of me to invite myself to see your family, but there's someone I was meaning to see around here myself, actually."

"Someone you're seeing, huh?" said Oghren, slapping him on the back. "When the wife's away..."

"She's not my wife!"

"I'm inviting you! And ooh, who is it?" said Kalamari.

"I know a good brothel if you want one, boy," said Oghren. "The pride of Orz-"

"No no no no no!" said Alistair, sticking his fingers in his ears.

"I'd hate to inconvenience your family," Wynne said, tactfully ignoring Oghren and Alistair, "especially if you'd like them to meet Cel."

"On the other hand, a healer might be useful..." Hosomaki said with another nervous look at Cel.

Xox

In the end, Alistair, Wynne and Sten decided to accompany Kalamari and Cel to the Alienage. Alistair was also planning a short visit to a mysterious girl in Denerim Market Square which was on the way to the Alienage anyway, Wynne rather liked city-exploration and Sten was only coming because Kalamari told him that her cousins made good cookies. The other five sat at Arl Eamon's dining table, feeling a little lost - except for Shale, who was standing.

"I'm bored," said Hosomaki.

"Where's the ale gone?" said Oghren.

"You drank it all," said Billybob.

"I'm bored," Hosomaki said. Again.

"Maybe we could also go out into Denerim?" said Leliana. "I hear there's a wonderful little stall in the marketplace with Orlesian imports. Why don't we go and see?"

Oghren snorted. "You're not taking me out shopping, that's for sure."

"Any darkspawn around to kill?" said Billybob. "I could do with a few good fights."

"Yeah!" said Hosomaki, brightening up. "There were definitely a couple of missions that we didn't get time to do last time. If we're quick enough, we could get one of these things done! I really need to fill up my Codex."

"And what are the mage elf's plans?" said Shale.

"Well, there's this note about Soldier's Peak that Bob gave Kalamari that Kalamari gave me before we left Redcliffe the first time. It looks pretty important – I mean, she mentioned Wardens and stuff when he was talking to me about it. I think. Levi Dryden? Exclamation mark person at campsite?"

Leliana sniffled a bit at the sound of "Bob", but quickly covered it up with, "How far away is it?"

"Er... here."

The other four looked. "That's halfway across the country," said Billybob.

"Uh... yeah!"

Xox

"Ah! I think this is it. Do you, uh, mind?" said Alistair, stopping abruptly in the marketplace.

"Oh, is this where your other girlfriend lives?" Kalamari said, jumping up and down in glee.

"She's not my girlfriend!" said Alistair. "That would be... icky. And Tim would castrate me. No, she's my sister."

"I didn't know you had a sister," said Wynne. "Who is she?"

"This is so cool!" said Kalamari. "This is like family reunion day. What's her name? What's she look like? Is she nice?"

"I don't know," Alistair said. "That's why I want to meet her. I don't know anything about her except that her name's Goldanna and that this is her house. But, I mean, we don't have to meet her. In fact, we don't really have enough time to be paying visits to everyone, haha. I just... what would I even sa-"

"Okay!" said Kalamari. She knocked on the door. A woman, presumably Goldanna, answered it.

"Are you here about linens? Three bits by the bundle, no-one's going to do better here. Don't listen to that-"

"Hey Goldanna! Apparently this is your brother, Alistair!" said Kalamari.

"What?"

"Er... thanks, Kalamari," said Alistair, resisting the urge to slap his forehead. "I mean, hello. I'm Alistair. I... I don't know if you know about me, but I think I'm your brother."

The woman gaped. "You! I knew it! They told me you was dead! They told me the babe was dead along with mother, but I knew they was lying!"

Alistair coughed nervously. "Well, they were wrong. Here I am, I suppose."

"I told them the babe was the King's, but they just told me to shut my mouth. I knew it!"

"I'm sorry," said Alistair awkwardly. "I didn't know that. It's... good to meet you."

Goldanna snorted. "Like it does me any good! You're the reason that mother dead, you are, and I've had to just scrape by all these years myself. You've no idea what it's like with five mouths to feed and no coin in the house, do you?"

"I...?"

"This is so not a happy family reunion!" said Kalamari, crossing her arms. "What's wrong with you?"

The woman looked at the rest of them as if only just registering them. Her eyes fell upon Sten, and she stepped back automatically. "And what are all you lot doing here then? Some group of royal tag-alongs to hold up his riches for him? Maker knows he can afford to tramp around the country while people like me are starving without a scrap of food."

There was a 'poomf' and Cel had appeared behind her with a knife at her throat. Goldanna yelped.

"Hey!" said Alistair, and then forgot which one he was going to say "Hey!" to. "Stop it!"

"Don't worry," said Kalamari, very pleased at Cel's show of restraint in not immediately stabbing Goldanna in the back.

"Kalamari? Can you make her stop threatening to kill my sister?" said Alistair.

"She insulted me," growled Cel.

"This is a waste of time," Sten informed them, and strode out.

Xox

"That... didn't go as well as I thought it would," said Alistair, sitting on the doorstep with head in his hands. The rest of the group were standing with him back outside again, since Goldanna had just kicked them thoroughly out (but not before attempting to wheedle some money out of him first). It had been a rather impressive feat for one unarmed human woman.

"I'm sorry, Alistair," said Wynne. "Some people cannot live up to your expectations."

"Yes, but you didn't need to put that knife to her throat! We should have just gone quietly."

"Why not?" said Cel.

"Because... because that's just not what you do!"

"She was a waste of time and space," Cel scoffed. "I should've just beheaded that shemlen."

"Okay, that was probably a bit violent," said Kalamari, patting Alistair's shoulder. "And I'm also sorry for how it turned out. We're here for you!"

"I'm not," said Cel roughly (not that she really had any other tone of voice). "People are selfish, get it? I don't know why you even bothered visiting. It's always going to turn out that way."

"But..."

"Oh, come on. Not all people are selfish ratjerks!" said Kalamari. "That was just unlucky."

Cel opened her mouth and then closed it again. "Yeah, maybe except for you. Look, shem," she said, turning back to Alistair, "the world's out to fuck you up. Every bitch is out for themselves, and you've got to deal with it."

"There's no need for such language," interjected Wynne.

"This shem's got to learn that some day! It's so-" she inserted what the others could only assume was an ancient elven obscenity from the times of Arlathan, "annoying listening to you whine and cry about shit and then you tell me I shouldn't do anything about it!"

"Look, let's just go," said Alistair. He stood up. "I don't want to dwell on it right now."

Xox

"I'm sorry, but your accent is actually un-understandable," said SacredBob to Anora's maid, Erlina.

"Don't be such an idiot," snapped Tim. "I apologise for his behaviour. Were we in any sane mood, we would not have brought him along."

"It is no matter," said Erlina in her Orlesian way. "I will distract the guards at the door, and you will be free to go inside and rescue Her Highness."

"Ah, I always love a bit of role-play," said Zevran, inspecting his guard disguise.

"Except when that girl wanted me to dress up in a Chantry Mother's robe," said Bob. He shuddered at the memory.

"And what was she in this game?" Zevran said.

"The Maker."

"I'm sure the blasphemy added to the excitement, no?"

"Er..."

"Enough of this dim-witted talk," said Morrigan. "I still cannot understand how I managed to be stuck with your idiotic chatter yet again."

"C'mon, it was just this and that crazy mountain village. Where you killed me."

"You forgot Lothering."

"That doesn't count! That was just an afternoon drink, that was. And hey, why're you complaining? I'm the one stuck with a psychotic killer of a witch waiting to freeze my ass off at every turn."

"Now, I can't decide whether Tim or you, Morrigan, would be better as the feisty female lead in this romance novel that is Bob's life," said Zevran, chuckling slightly.

"Romance novel?" said Morrigan with some disgust.

"The only thing that belongs in a romance novel is that massive sideboob she's got going there," said Bob. "It distracts us from her face. Oh SHIT, she's covered it up with this guard costume! What are we to do _now_?"

"Oh? Another oh-so amusing, witty comment?" Morrigan scoffed.

"Yeah, well, so's your face."

"Excuse me?"

"Bob," said Zevran sadly. "That was shameful."

"You know what she should be asha-" He stopped, because FlowerPower was barking and headbutting his legs. Then he ran off.

"I believe we are to go inside now," said Zevran, following the dog. "A pity, since you two were really getting somewhere."

"Where did Tim go?" Bob wondered.

Xox

"Hi Levi!" said Hosomaki. "Looks like you've still got that exclamation mark over your head!"

**to be continued**

_A/N: Real life caught up with me and that's why this has been on an eternal hiatus! Sorry, guys. Yesterday I did manage to fill a non-kink kink meme request, which reactivated my writing urges. And so I resolved to continue writing this fic. :D  
_

_In other news, Dragon Age II! What's your DA2 story? I could go on for ever about my guys, Dude and Babe, but... I won't bother you with that just yet.  
_


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